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/ 


LECTURES 


ON 

SCRIPTURE FACTS. 

\ 


BY THE REV. 

/ 


WILLIAM BENGO COLLYER. 

I » 


- —. . Monumentum aere perennius, 

Regalique situ Pyramidum altius: 

Quod non imber edax, non Aquilo impotens 
Possit diru ere, aqt innumerabilis 
Annorum series, et fuga temporum. 

Hor. 



LONDON: 


PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, 

By J. G. Barnard, 57, Snow Hill; 

AND SOLD BY HATCHARD, PICCADILLY j T. CONDER, BUCKLERSBUAY; 
WILLIAMS AND SMITH, STATIONERS* COURT j BURTON, 
HOUNDSDITCH J MOORE, PECKHAM , COLE, 

GREENWICH j AND OTHER 
BOOKSELLERS. 

1807. 

PRICE TWELVE SHILLINGS. 

[Entered at Stationers* Hail,] 




i 









IBS 5! I 

• G ic 

I ?oi 



S* 


^roTco^ 


"Sjv OF WASrtW^^ 


A 


TO THE 


RIGHT HONOURABLE 

THOMAS LORD ERSKINE, 

LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR. 


My Lord, 




IF flattery be essential to a 
Dedication, I shall never write one : 
bnt in the present instance I have the 
satisfaction of believing that an at¬ 
tempt at adulation would be as dis¬ 
gusting to your Lordship, as I feel it 
would be unworthy the dignity of 
the subject of this volume, and de¬ 
grading to me as a minister of the 
sanctuary. It would be easy to tell 
your Lordship that I admire your 
talents, and that the world admires 

a 2 





them too: this would not be adula¬ 
tion ; but it would be a tribute uncon¬ 
nected with the cause of Christianity, 
and I shall therefore wave it altogether. 
Permit me, then, to remind your 
Lordship, that you descend from an 
ancient and noble House, which piety 
has distinguished as well as rank; and 
that in various branches of your fa¬ 
mily, religion has shed a lustre more 
dazzling and more glorious than the 
radiance of nobility. Providence has 
placed your Lordship high in the 
sphere of society; and it is in your 
power to do much to serve the cause 
of revealed truth. With the confi¬ 
dence inspired by your public and 
admirable defence of Christianity; 
and with the affection kindled by the 
distinguished honour I have enjoyed 
in the friendship of an illustrious 


V 


Relative; I presented, in an early 
stage of this work, an outline of it to 
your Lordship, and received from 
you a note, authorizing me to as¬ 
sume the sanction of your name in 
the eyes of the public, and express¬ 
ing, in your own energetic lan¬ 
guage, your persuasion of the infi¬ 
nite value of “ Revelation, without 
“ whose hopes and consolations, all 
“ human distinctions are nothing.”. 
Under these auspices the work was 
carried on, and is now brought to a 
conclusion: and I have the honour to 
present to your candour, with my 
most grateful acknowledgments, the 
offspring of your own indulgent pa¬ 
tronage. It is my sincere and earnest 
desire, that the power of that Reli¬ 
gion, the evidences of which your 
judgment approves, may be the con- 

a 3 


VI 


solation of your heart; that it’s influ¬ 
ence may shed a divine light upon 
the elevated orbit in which you move; 
and that it’s unfading honours may 
be your future recompense, when the 
distinctions of rank shall indeed be 
lost, and when the only nobility al- 

I s 

lowed will consist in an alliance with 
him, who in the days of his pilgrim¬ 
age upon the earth, had not where to 
lay his head. 

I have the honour to remain, 

with high consideration. 
My Lord, 

Your Lordship’s much obliged 

and most obedient servant, 

WILLIAM BENGO COLLYER. 

Black heath-Hill, 

Feb. 6, 1807. 


\ 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 


A 

THE Right Honourable the Lord Advocate of Scotland. 
Mr. Adams, 207, High-Holborn. 

Mr. Thomas Addison, Ludgate-street. 

Peter Ainsley, Esq. London-street, Crutched-friars. 
Peter Ainsley, Esq. jun. 

William Allen, Esq. Seal Office, Inner Temple. 

Mr. Allen, proctor, Doctors’-Commons. 

Miss Allen, Wapping-wall. 

Miss C. Allen, ditto. 

William Allers, Esq. No. 5, Fenchurch-street. 

Mr. Ailport, No. £>, Devonshire-square. 

Mr. Ascough. 

J. P. Ashley, Esq. Bache’s-row, City-road. 

Mr. Atkins, Blackheath, Kent. 

Mrs. Atkinson, Edmonton-terrace. 

George Allen Aylwin, Esq. po, Lower-Thames-street. 

* ' B 

The~ Right Honourable Lord Barham, &c. &c. &c. ' 

The Right Honourable the Earl of Buchan, &c. &c. &c. 
Lady Baird, Mansion-house, Camberwell. 

Samuel Boddington, Esq. M. P. &c. &c. &c. 

The Rev. John Bannister, Wareham, Dorset. 

The Rev. Joseph Brooksbank, WinckworthVbuildings. 
The Rev. George Burder, Islington. 

William Babington, M. D. F. R. S. Aldermanbury, 

Mr. James Bailey, 127, Cheapside. 

a 4 




V1U 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



Mrs. Baker, Peckham. 

Miss Baker, Mesd. Brown and Stokes's, Peckham. 

Mr. Joseph Barber, Cheapside. 

Mr. William Barnes, student, Hoxton. 

Mr. S. Barret, Lothbury. 

Mr. Joseph Bates, Cheapside. 

William Batley, Esq. Blackheath. 

Mr. Bayley, Fore-street. 

Mrs. Bayley. 

Mr. John Beachey, Maidstone. 

Mr. Beaumont, Villers-street, Strand. 

John Beckley, Esq. 31, Coleman-street. 

Mrs. Beddome, Clapham. 

Mr. Bee, Peckham. 

Mr. J. Beilis. 

Mr. Bentliff, jun. Maidstone, 2 copies. 

Joseph Benwell, Esq. Battersea. 

Mr. William Best, Poole. 

Mr. Thomas Betson, Wood-street. 

Mr. Alfred Bishop, student, Homerton. 

Messrs. Black, Parry, & Kingsbury, Leadenhall-st. 6 copies. 
Mr. Blackhall, Basinghall-street. 

John Bond, Esq. Stoke-Newington. 

William Boyd, Esq. Paragon. 

William Boyd, Esq. Manchester. 

John Boys, Esq. Ashcombe. 

Miss Bradlev, Mile-end. 

Miss Brandram, Size-lane. 

Miss Brewer, Spitalfields. 

Miss Frances Brewer, ditto. 

Miss Sarah Brewer, ditto. 

Captain Bright, Royal Marines, Greenwich. 

Mr. George Brooks, student, Hoxton. 

Mrs. Brooke, Turnham-green. 

Mesd. Brown and Stokes, Peckham, 10 copies, 

Mrs. Brown, Baker’s-buildings, Old-Bethlem. 

Mr. Henry Browne, Bristol. 

Mr. John Bruce, student, Homerton. 

Mr. Archibald Bryson, sen. Rose-lane, Spitalfields. 

Mr. Wm. Burdon, St. Andrew’s-court, Ilolborn, 2 copies. 
Mrs. Burfield, North-street, Brighthelmstone. 

Mr. Burroughs, Castle-street. 

Miss Bury, 18, Newgate-street. 

Miss R. Bury, ditto. 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 


ix 


Mr. Robert Butler, Gracechurch-street, 3 copies. 

John Bye, Esq. Clapham. 

Messrs. Bye & Law, St. John’s-square, Clerkemvell, 2 copies. 

c 

The Lord High Chancellor. 

D. P. Coke, Esq. M. P. &c. See. &c. 

The Rev. George Clayton, Walworth. 

The Rev. Thomas Cloutt. 

-• Carr, Esq. Islington, 2 copies. 

James Carr, Esq. 21, Highbury-terrace, 

Thomas Carnarvon, Esq. Greenwich, 3 copies. 

Mr. John Carter, Guildford. 

Mr. Catlin, Camberwell. 

Mr. Thomas Chaplin, Harlow, Essex. 

Mr. F. Charlton, jun. Doctors’-Commons. 

Mrs. Charman, No. 1, West-square, Southwark. 

Miss Chace, Marl borough-place, Walworth, 2 copies. 

Mr. Nathaniel Chater, St. Dunstan's-hill. 

Miss Churchman, Grove-lane, Camberwell. 

Mr. R. Clarence, Minories. 

Mr. John Clark, Hoxton. 

Mrs. Clark, Peckham. 

Mr. James Clark, 10, Caroline-place, Foundling hospital. 
Mr. William Dudds Clarke, Borough. 

J. B. Cocker, Esq. 

Mr. Ebenezer Cole, Greenwich. 

Mr. Coleman, Stratford, near Bow. 

Mr. William Collyer, Fleet-street. 

Josiah Lane Colvill, Esq. 18, Parliament-street. 

Mr. Thomas Conder, Bucklersbury, 30 copies. 

Miss S. L. Conder, 98. Cheapside. 

John Earle Cook, Esq- 

Mr. Cooke, St. Bride’s-passagc. 

John Coppard, Esq. Friern-farm, Peckham-Rye. 

Mr. Thomas Cornford, Watling-street. 

Mrs. Cotes, Peckham, 2 copies. 

Mr. John Creasy, Butt-lane, Deptford. 

Mr. J. Crepps, Buck-lane, Old-street. 

Thomas Crisp, Esq. Colebrook-terrace, Islington. 

Mr. Joseph Crisp, ditto. 

Mr. John Crisp, 24, Birchin-lane. 

Mrs. Crisp, Sloane-square, Chelsea. 

James Crofl, Esq. Greenham-lodge, near Reading, 

Mrs. Cross, 11, Charles’-square, Hoxton. 

Mr. Richard Crowder, Ripley. 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 


X 

T> 

The Right Hon. the Earl of Dartmouth, &c. &c. &c. 
The Right Honourable Lady Dacre. 

The Rev. James Davison, Rochford, Essex. 

The Rev. E. A. Dunn, North-street, City-road. 
James Davidson, Esq. Fish-street-hill. 

Miss S. Davidson, ditto. 

Mr. James Davidson, Clapliam-common. 

G. A. Davis, Esq. Mark-lane. 

Mr. Dawson, sen. Islington, 2 copies. 

Charles Deacon, Esq. Milk-street. 

Mr. Denslow, Chapel-street. 

Mrs. Dick. 

Mrs. Dixon. 

AVilliam Dixon, Esq. Blackheath. 

Mr. Dodd, 2 6 , Change-alley. 

Mrs. Georgiana Dodd, near Reading. 

Richard Down, Esq. Bartholomew-lane. 

Mrs. Drake, 

Miss Dunkin, Rotherhithe. 

Mrs. Dunnington, Camberwell. 

John Dyer, Esq. Royal Hospital, Greenwich. 

, i 

E 

The Honourable Mrs. Erskine, Edinburgh. 

Miss Erskine, ditto. 

' * 

The Rev. Lewis Evans. 

Mrs. Eade, Stoke-Newington. 

Miss Eade, ditto. 

Joseph Earle, Esq. Watling-strect. 

Mrs. Edwards, Tottenham. 

Mr. Edward Edwards, Great St. Helen's. 

Mrs. Edwards, ditto. 

Mr. Edwards, Peckham. 

Mr. Thomas Edwards, ditto. 

Mr. William Edwards, Coleman-street. 

Mrs. Emerson, Whitechapel-road. 

Joseph Esdaile, Esq. Bunhill-row. 

Miss Exeter. 

' F 

General Farrington, Blackheath. 

Captain Farrington, ditto. 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 

i 

Miss Farrington, Grove-lane, Camberwell. 

Mr. William Fasset, Beckford-row, Walworth. 

Robert Fauntleroy, Esq. Potter’s-field, Horslydown. 

Mrs. Fauntleroy, ditto. 

Miss Fauntleroy, Mesd. Brown and Stokes’s, Peckham. 

Miss Sarah Fountleroy, ditto. 

Mrs. Fay, Ashburnham-house, Grove, Blackheath. 

Mr. Fcarn, Spital-square. 

John Fenn, Esq. Peckham. 

Mrs. Fenn, ditto. 

Mr. John Fenn, Faversham, Kent. 

Joseph Howlett Fenner, Esq. Long-land, Bermondsey 
Mr. John Arnaud Fichat, No. J, Union-street, Walcot- 
place, Lambeth. 

Mr. W. Fisher, Chiswick. 

Miss Fitz, St. James’s-street. 

Miss Fleetwood, No. 2, Providence-row. 

Mr. B. Flower, Gutter* lane, Cheapside. 

Mr. Peter Fontaneau, 31, Bacon-street, Bethnal-green. 
Thomas Forsyth, Esq. Upper Wimpole-street, 2 copies. 

Mr. James Fossey, 31, Bacon-street, Bethnal-green. 

Dr. Fothergill, F. R. S. 

Mr. Fowler, Figtree-court, Temple. 

Mr. F. Francis, Portsca. 

Nathaniel Bogle French, Esq. Dulwich. 

Mr. John Fuller, Dunmow, Essex. 

Mr. William Fulford, 9> Lad-lane. 

Mrs. Fullbrook, Fenchurch-street. 

Mr. Furnace. 

Mr. C. Furniss, 58, Mark-lane. 

Mrs. Fysh, Camberwell. 

G 

i 

The Right Honourable Lord Grenville, &c. &c. See. 

The Right Honourable the Countess of Glencairn, 6 copies. 
The Right Honourable Viscountess Gage. 

The Honourable Mrs. Gage. 

Lady Graham, 73, Upper Guildford-street. 

William Garrow, Esq. M. P. Sec. Sec. See. 

Mr. C. Gastineau, Denmark-row, Camberwell. 

Miss Geale, Pentonville. 

Miss Geale, St. John’s-street, Smithfield. 

Miss Geale, Guildford. 



All 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 


Mrs. Gibbard, Peckham. 

Miss Gillespy. 

Mr. Gipson, Peckham. 

Mr. Goujon, Newgate-street. 

Mr. Gould, Lewisham. 

Mr. Grafty, Charles-street, Soho. 

Mr. Grafty, No. 27, Craven-street, City-road. 

Peter Green, Esq. Crookham, near Reading. 

— - Green, Esq, Catharine-place, Deptford. 

Mr. Greenhough, 231, Wapping. 

-Grellier* Esq. Peckham. 

Thomas Grey, Esq. Sackville-street, Piccadilly. 

Mr. George Guillonneau, No. 2, Pope's Head-alley, Cornhill. 
Mrs. Gundry, 11, Queen’s-place, Newington. 

John Gurney, Esq. Serjeant's Inn, Temple. 

H 

The Right Honourable Lady Frances Harpur, 3 copies. 

Lady Hesketh, Bath, 2 copies. 

Sir Richard Hill, Bart. 

The Rev. Frederick Hamilton, Brighthelmstone. 

The Rev. Thomas Hill, Homerton, 

The Rev. Dr. Holland, domestic chaplain to the Lord 
High Chancellor. 

The Rev. John Humphrys, Newington-Butts. 

Samuel Hadley, Esq New-court, St. Swithin’s-lane. 

Mr. W. Hales, Fenchurch-street. 

Mrs. Hale, Redcross-street. 

Mr. Thomas Hall, Cheapside. 

Mrs. Hall, Blackheath-hill. 

Mr. G. Hall, Manchester. 

Mr. William Hall, Wood-street, Spitalfields. 

William Hamilton, M.D. F. R. C. Edin. Artillery-place. 

Mr. Hanson, Peckham. 

Joseph Hardcastle, Esq. Hatcham-house, 2 copies. 

Joseph Hardcastle, Esq. jun. ditto. 

Mr. Wintour Harris, Bristol. 

Mr. James Harwood, Bristol. 

William Hawes, M. D. &c. &c. &c. Spital-square, 

Mr. S. Hayward, Bread-street. 

James Heald, Esq. Stockport. 

Mr. Jonathan Herne, Hoxton-square. 

Mr. Thomas Herne, Highgate. 

Miss Hickman, Mesd. Brown and Stokes’s, Peckham. 

Mr. Hitchcock, Peckham. 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 


Xlll 


Mr. W. Hobbs, Cannon-street. 

W illiam Holt, Esq. Tottenham. 

Mr. John Hooper, student, Hoxton. 

Mr. W. Hooper, Milk-street, Cheapside, 2 copies. 

Mr. Richard Horton, Felsted, Essex. 

Mr. Samuel Houston, Great St. Helen's, Bishopsgate-street, 
Mr. Joseph Howell, Newgate-street. 

Mr. Thomas Howell, 66, Mark-lane. 

William Hubbard, Esq. Peckham, 2 copies. 

Mr. William Hummerstone, Harlow, Essex. 

Mr. James Huxley, Ropemaker's-street. 

Mr. Samuel Hyde, Cheapside, 2 copies, 

I 

Mr. Idol, Peckham. 

Mr. James Inderwick, student, Homerton. 

Charles Ivatts, Esq. Gay’s-place, Bath. 

J 

* 

Mr. B. Jackson, Borough. 

Mr. Samuel Jackson, Bristol. 

Mrs. Elizabeth Jackson, Bridgewater-square. 

Mrs. Jacobs, Bristol. 

Mr. J. Janson, Darlington, 3 copies. 

George Jeffery, Esq. Throgmorton-street. 

Mr. Joseph Jennings, Queens-street. 

Miss L. M. Johnson, 20, City-road. 

Richard Jones, Esq. Howland-street, Tottenham-court-road, 
Mrs. Jones. Finsbury-place, Finsbury-square. 

Mrs. Jones, Peckham, 3 copies. 

-Jordan, Esq. Denmark-hill, Camberwell. 

Mr. John Joyner, Gracechurch-strcet. 

- Jupp, Esq. Carpenters’-hall, 

K 

The Rev. W. Kingsbury, A. M. Southampton. 

Mr. Keech, 12, Craven-buildings, City-road. 

Mr. Kealing, No. 3, Queen-street. 

Mr. Samuel Luck Kent, Carpenters'-hall. 

Mr. W. Kitchener, Finsbury-place. 




XIV 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 


L 

The Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Landaff. 

The Right Rev. the Lord Bishop of London. 

The Rev. Mr. Lacey, Southampton. 

The Rev. John Lake, rectory, Rotherhithe. 

The Rev. C. J. Latrobe. 

The Rev. Samuel Lowell, Bristol. 

Mr. James Lagsden, Ropemaker’s-street. 

Thomas Langston, Esq. Watling-street. 

Mr. Thomas Lawrence, 64, Goswell-street. 

Mr. Robert Leaver, Islington-road. 

Mr. Lee, Grove-lane, Camberwell. 

Mr. Lee, Peckham. 

Mr. William Lee, Strand. 

John Coakley Lettsom, LL. D. M. D. F. R. S. 

Mr. Lewis, Peckham. 

Mr. Thomas Light, Proctor’s Office, Doctors’ Commons. 
Mr. Richard Light, 52, Watling-street. 

Mr. Thomas Link, Linton, near Maidstone, 2 copies, 
William Lord, Esq. Hatfield, Essex. 

Mr. Low, 49, White Cross-street. 

Mrs. Losh, Peckham. 

Miss Lloyd, Mesd. Brown and Stokes’s, Peckham. 

Joseph Luck, Esq. Clapton. 

Mademoiselle Lyon, Mesd. Brown and Stokes’s, Peckham. 

M 

The Right Honourable Earl Moira, &c. Sec. Sec. 

The Right Honourable Lord Viscount Molesworth, Sec. Sec. 
The Right Honourable Viscountess Montagu. 

The Right Honourable Lady Robert Manners. 

The Right Honourable Lady Anne Murray, 2 copies. • 
Mrs. Madan, Peterborough-palace. 

•-Mackintosh, Esq. Hammersmith. 

Alexander Maitland, Esq. Peckham, 2 copies. 

Mrs. Maitland, ditto, 2 copies. 

Mr. Joseph Mariner, 65, London-wall. 

Mfs. Marshall, Richmond-street, Soho. 

Mrs. Martineau, near Reading. 

Mrs. Medlycott, Ilerne-hill, near Dulwich. 

G. W. Meriton, Esq. Peckham. 

Mrs. Meriton, ditto. 

Mr. Robert Metcalfe, Little Bush-lane, Cannon-street. 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 


XV 


Mr. Thomas Miller, Cheapside. 

-Mitchell, Esq. Peckham, 2 copies. 

Miss Mitchell, Mesd. Brown and Stokes’s, Pechkam. 
Mr. Montague, Charter-house-square. 

Mrs. Montague, 25, Artillery-place. 

Mr. Morrison, student, Homerton. 

Mr. Christopher Morgan, Deptford. 

Mr. William Morley, Drury-lane. 

Mrs. Mounce, ip, Phdlip-lane, London-wall. 

Colonel Mudge, Blackheath. 

Colonel Munro. 

Alexander Munro, Esq. 

Mrs. Murhall, 11, Castle-street. 

N 

Colonel Ncwnham, alderman, &c. &c. &c. 2 copies. 
Mrs. Neale. 

Mrs. Nelson, Peckham. 

Mr. Nelson, 16 , Old Jewry. 

Mr. T. W. Newcome, Pentonville. 

Mr. Newsome, Borough, High-street. 

Mrs. Norton, Uxbridge, Middlesex. 

Mr. Nott, 101, Newgate-street. 

o 

Mr. Oakey, 18, Garden-row. 

--Oswald, Esq. Lower Road, Deptford. 


The Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Peterborough. 
Thomas Piummer, Esq. M.P. Lamb’s Conduit-street. 
Mrs. Plummer, ditto. 

Thomas Plummer, Esq. Camberwell Terrace. 

Mrs. Plummer, ditto. 

John Plummer, Esq. ditto. 

The Rev. Mr. Paston, Hyde-street. 

The Rev. Mr. Pridden, F. A. S. Fleet-street. 

Mrs. Param, Brook-house, Cheshunt. 

Miss Pakenham, 14, Grafton-street, Fitzroy-square. 
Hugh Parnell, Esq. Church-street, Spitalfields. 

Mr. Hugh Parnell, jun. ditto. 

William Pearce, Esq. St. S with in’s-lane. 

Mrs. Pearce, ditto. 


# 



XVI 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



Mr. Peck, Lossee, near Maidstone. 

J. Pencloth, Esq. Seal Office, Inner Temple. 

Mr. Penford, Romney, Hants. 

Mrs. Phene, Moorfields. 

Miss Phillips, 5, Great Surry-street. 

Mrs. Elizabeth Phillips, Old Broad-street. 

Mr. Piercy, Brighthelmstone. 

Mrs. Pinchbeck, Norwood, 2 copies. 

Miss Pinchbeck, ditto. 

Miss Poole, Fleet-street. 

Mr. Edward Porter, Sherborne, Dorsetshire. 

Mr. James Powell, 51, Great Sutton-street, Goswell-strect, 
Mr. Joshua Powell, ditto. 

Mrs. Anna Prentice, Prittlewell, Essex, 

Mr. Prettyman, St. Dunstan’s-hill. 

M rs. Pritchard, 17, Wilderness-row, 

Mrs. Pursur, Hackney. 

Mrs, Pyne, Peckham. 

R 

The Right Honourable Earl Romney, &c. &c. &c» 

Mr. William Ragsdell, student, Bristol. 

Mr. Thomas Raffles, student, Hoinerton. 

Mr. Raffles, 14, Prince's-street, Spitalfields. 

Miss Raffles, ditto. 

Mrs. Randolph, Letcombe-Basset, Berkshire. 

Mr. Read, Cambenvell-terrace, 

Mr. Edward Read, ditto. 

Miss Read, ditto. 

Mrs. Ready, Peckham. 

Mr. George Rew, Strand. 

Mr. Joseph Reynolds, Idol-lane, Tower-street. 

Mr. W. Reynolds, ditto. 

Mrs. Risdon, Peckham. 

Mrs. Robinson 

Mr. Mark Robinson, student, Hoxton. 

Mr. Henry Robinson, Cooper’s-row, Crutched-friars. 

Mr. Samuel Robinson, Finsbury-place. 

William Rowe, Esq. Blackheath. 

Mrs. Rowe, ditto. 

Mr. T. Rowney, 106 , Hatton Garden. 

Mr. R. Rowney, ditto. 

Mrs. Rutherfoord, London-Field, Hackney. 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 


XVII 


Richard Ryland, Esq. No. 3, Savage Gardens. 

Mrs. Ryland, ditto, 2 copies. 

Miss Ryland, ditto. 

Miss Lucy Ryland, ditto. 

Mr. John Croft Ryland, ditto. 

Mr. Richard Henry Ryland, ditto. 

Mr. Archer Ryland, ditto. 

Miss Emily Ryland, ditto. 

S 

Vice Admiral the Honourable H. E. Stanhope, &c« &c. &c. 
Richard Sharp, Esq. M. P. &c. &c. &c. 

The Rev. Mr. Sanders, Wilderness-row. 

The Rev. John Savill, Greenwich. 

The Rev. John Simons, PauTs-cray. 

The Rev. J. P. Smith, Old College, Ilomerton, 

The Rev. William Smith, A* M. Camberwell. 

The Rev. John Styles, Cowes, Isle of Wight. 

Mr. Salmon, Lombard-street. 

Mr. Sanders, Islington. 

Miss Sant, King-street, Covent Garden. 

Mr. Samuel Savage, Union-place, Greenwich. 

Mr. Savage, Friday-street. 

Mr. John Schofield, Jewin-Street. 

Miss Elizabeth Scot, Worship-street. 

Mr. Screeby, Pond-park, Felsted, Essex. 

David Seale, Esq. Peckham. 

Mrs. Seale, ditto. 

Ambrose Searle, Esq. 

Mr. Robert Semple. 

Mr. R. Sergeant, Ratcliffe Highway. 

-Sew 7 elJ, Esq. Peckham. 

Charles Shard, Esq. Lovell-house, near Windsor, 4 copies. 
Mrs. J. Shard, Portman-square. 

William Sharp, Esq. Norwood. 

Mrs. Sharp, ditto. 

Mr. William Sharp, Romsey, 2 copies. 

Mrs. Sharp, 21, Bunhill-row. 

Mrs. Hannah Sharpe, Burnham, Essex. 

Mr. Shepherd. 

Miss Sheppard. Mesd. Brown and Stokes's, Peckham. 

b 



XV111 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 


Mr. A. M. Shields, Fort-place, Bermondsey. 

Mrs. Shields, ditto. 

Miss Shields, ditto. 

Frederic Silver, Esq. 

Mr. Richard Slate, student, Hoxton, 2 copies. 

Mr. Samuel Sleigh, student, Hoxton. 

Mr. Thomas Sleigh, student, Hoxton. 

Mrs. Small, Fludyer-street, Parliament-street. 

Mrs. Smallwood, Sloane-street, Chelsea. 

Miss Smith. 

Mr. Smith, Mark-lane. 

Mr. Edward Smith, Houndsditch. 

Joseph Smith, Esq. No. 1, Field-court, Gray's-Inn. 
Mrs. Smith, Camberwell. 

John Smoothey, Esq. Bird Brook-hall, Essex. 

Joseph Smoothey, Esq. ditto. 

Mr. Jacob Snelgar, student, Hoxton. 

Mr. Matthew Stains, Brown's-lane, Spitalfields. 

Robert Southey, Esq. Fish-street-hill. 

Mrs. Stennett, Paternoster-row. 

Mr. Joseph Stennett, ditto. 

Mr. Nathaniel Slerry, Miuories. 

Miss Steven, Camberwell. 

Miss M. Steven, ditto. 

Mr. Robert Steven, jun. ditto. 

Mr. George Stevenson, Bow-lane. 

Mr. George Gines Stibbs, Camberwell. 

Mrs. Strong, Queenhithe. 

Mr. Stokes, Peckham. 

Mr. Robert Stokes, ditto. 

Joseph Stonard, Esq. Great Tower-hill, 2 copies. 

Mr. Prudence Sweetland, Brick-lane, Whitechapel. 

Mr. Sykes, 30, Milk-street. 

Mrs. Syme, Dundee, Scotland. 

Miss Eliza Syme, Mesd. Brown and Stokes's, Peckham. 

T 


The Right Honourable Lord Teignmouth, &c. &c. &c. 
The Right Honourable Lady Ann Talbot. 

The Rev. Thomas Thomas, Peckham. 

The Rev. John Townsend, T^otherhithe. 

Mr. Tapp, Wellelose-square, 2 copies. 

Mrs. Taylor, sen. Portswood, Southampton, 2 copies. 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 


XIX 


T. E. Taylor, Esq. Counter-hill, Kent. 

David Taylor, Esq. Marlow, Essex. 

Mr. John Thelwall, professor of elocution, 40, Bedford- 
place, Bloomsbury-square. 

Mr. Thirlwall, Smithfield. 

Mrs. Thomas, 98, Cheapside. 

Miss C. Thomas, ditto. 

Miss A. R. Thomas, ditto. 

Mr. May Thomas, jun. Bearbinder-lane. 

Mrs. Thompson, 2, Church-street, Kensington. 

Mr. Threlkeld, Walworth-common. 

Mrs. Tudway. 

Mr. Joseph Turnbull, 30, City-road. 

Mr. Edward Tute, Capel-court, Bartholomew-lane. 

U 

* 

Mr. Thomas Underwood, Deptford. 

V. 

Mr. John Vallance, Hove. 

Mr. Philip Vallance, ditto. 

Mr. James Vallance, ditto. 

Mr. Edward Vennor, Cornhill. 

Mr. Vidler, Peckham. 

Mr. Thomas Vidler, jun. Leonard-street, Finsbury. 

w. 

The Right Plonourable Lady Arabella Ward. 

The Honourable and Very Rev. the Dean of Windsor, 2 copies. 
William Wilberforce, Esq. M. P. &c. &c. &c. 

The Rev. Robert Winter. 

The Rev. Basil Woodd, A.M. Paddington. 

The Rev. Hugh Worthington, Highbury-place, () copies. 
Miss Walker, Camberwell. 

Mr. Capel Wall, Grace Church-street. 

Mr. Wallington, Basinghall-street, 4 copies. 

Mr. John Wallis, Peckham, 

Mr. Walton Walton, Gibraltar-row, West-square. 

Mr. John Ward, Minories. 

James Ware, Esq. Bridge-street, Blackfriars. 

T. F. Warren, Esq. St. Elizabeth’s, Jamaica. 

Miss Weatherly, Great Knight Rider street. 

Dr. West, physician to the army. 


f 


XX 


LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS', 


» 


Mrs. West, Merton. 

Mrs. West, No. 1. West-square. 

Mr. Westbrook, Crooked-lane. 

Mr. Westwood, IS, Newgate-street. 

Mr. Whaley, Cheapside. 

Mrs. Whinn, 5, Walworth-terrace, 2 copies, 

Mrs. Whitaker, Kensington. 

Mr. John Whitby, Swan brewhouse, Wapping. 

Mr. James White, Crispin-street, Spitalfields. 

Mr. Whitehead, Blackheath-hiil. 

Mr. Wigney, Brighthelmstone. 

Messrs. Williams and Smith, Stationers’-court, 50 copies. 
Mr. Williams, Lord Mayor’s Court-Office, Royal Exchange, 
Mr. Williams, Southampton. 

Mrs. Williams, Watling-street, 

Mr. John Wilkinson, Manchester. 

Mr. Benjamin Wilson, Devonshire-street. 

Miss Willis, Mesd. Brown and Stokes’s, Beckham. 

B. Willatts, Esq. Fore-street. 

Mr. Thos.'Willatts, ditto. 

William Winchester, Esq. Cecil-street, Strand. 

Richard Wood, Esq. Manchester, 2 copies. 

Mrs. Woodward. 

Mr. Samuel Worsley, High Wycombe. 

Mrs. Wright, 69, Lamb’s Conduit-street. 

Mrs. Wye, 20, Bunhill-row. 

-Wyatt, Esq. Newington-green, 

Mrs. Wyatt, ditto. 

Robert Wyatt, Esq. ditto. 

Miss Wyatt, ditto. 

William Wyatt, Esq. Halsted, Essex. 

Y 

Mr. Yockney, Bedford-street, Covent-gardea» 




PREFACE. 


It would be an unprecedented act, to 
send into the world, without a preface, a 
work of the magnitude of this volume; and 
I am glad to avail myself of the permis¬ 
sion and of the opportunity which custom 
not merely allows, but prescribes, to say 
something respecting the succeeding Lec¬ 
tures, before they are dismissed to the can¬ 
dour of the public, which could not be 
said in the course of their delivery. 

The history of the publication is simply 
as follows.—It was suggested to me about 
five years since, in a cursory conversation, 
that it would be a desirable thing to pro¬ 
duce a confirmation of the facts recorded 
in the sacred writings, from contemporary 
historians, so far as these could be ob~ 

b 3 


i 




xxii 

tained ; and where the remoteness of scrip¬ 
tural narrations stretched beyond the chro¬ 
nology of heathen compositions, to adduce 
such fragments of antiquity as time has 
spared to us, so far as they bear any rela¬ 
tion to events transpiring at the earliest 
periods. It was justly observed, that while 
many and successful efforts have been 
made, and are daily making, to elucidate 
and defend the doctrines and the precepts 
of Christianity, the facts recorded in the 
Bible have not been placed in the same 
advantageous point of view. Some have 
perhaps been deterred by the toil neces¬ 
sary to collect such testimonies, to select 
from the mass evidences which are more 
prominent than others, and to discriminate 
such portions of heathen records as mingle 
truth with fable,—to detect and expose the 
one, and to produce and enforce the other. 
It is also probable that not a few have de¬ 
clined to adventure upon this plan, because 
it is so unlike the usual and popular modes 
of pulpit discussion. Thus while the cita¬ 
del of revealed religion has been ably and 
zealously defended, the out-works have 


XX111 


been abandoned, or at least overlooked; 
and the posts where some veterans of old 
times fought, have, sin&e their removal by 
death, remained unfilled. Upon revolving 
this conversation in my mind, I felt that 
the remark was important, and I began 
seriously to think of undertaking the pro¬ 
posed discussion, just so far as it might be 
useful to my own congregation, and would 
not interfere with the other arrangements 
of my ministerial labours. My first object 
was to discover by whom the ground had 
been trodden before me. I well recollect¬ 
ed that Grotius had expressly set apart a 
portion of his treatise on the Truth of the 
Christian Religion, to the consideration of 
Foreign Testimonies: and in that useful 
little volume will be found many of the 
authorities produced in the following pages. 
But Grotius has written in Latin, and is 
not, therefore, accessible to an English 
reader. He has been translated; but the 
plan proposed forms a very small part 
of his production; and the whole work 
can only be considered as an epitome of 
the Evidences of Christianity, where the 

b 4 


/ 


xxiv 

principal arguments in it's favour are enu* 
merated and stated, but never dilated, and 
seldom more than barely named. Various 
have been the productions which tend to 
this point, under the sanction of such il¬ 
lustrious names as Prideaux, Lardner, Bri- 
ant, Stillingfleet, Pearson, Doddridge, and 
others. But these all enter only into a part 
of my scheme; they elucidate a particular 
portion of the sacred writings, or advert in 
general terms to the stability of the whole. 
Above all, it appeared to me that there 
was yet wanting a work, which might in¬ 
terweave foreign testimonies to the truth of 
Scripture history, with the discussion of 
the history itself; which might admit ge¬ 
neral and important remarks with a selected 
subject; and which might relieve the bar¬ 
renness and languor of mere discussion, 
and of a series of extracts from heathen 
writers, by assuming the shape and the 
ardour of pulpit and popular addresses. 
Such was the design of the Lectures now 
submitted to the public, and it would ill 
become me to conjecture how far I have 
succeeded in filling up the outline. The 


XXV 


plan was sketched for the use of my own 
congregation; and delivered in my own 
pulpit. It was afterwards desired by some, 
who perhaps thought too favourably of the 
execution, that it should be brought into a 
larger circle ; and the Lectures were accord¬ 
ingly delivered during two winters in Lon¬ 
don. By the importunity of the same 
persons, the work is now committed to the 
press ; and time must decide (while I anx¬ 
iously wait it's decision) whether I have 
done well or ill in yielding my private opi¬ 
nion of the demerits of the execution, to 
their flattering prepossessions in favour of 
it's utility. 

Respecting the work itself, I have little 
to add to the remarks which will be found 
to introduce the first Lecture. Using freely 
different writers, I have also candidly ac¬ 
knowledged my obligations to them. I 
have carefully read over, and have endea¬ 
voured faithfully to translate the passages 
produced from antiquity; and separating 
them from the body of the work, I have 
preserved their original form for the use of 
the scholar who may choose to hear them 


XXVI 


speak their own language, and yet might 
be unwilling to take the trouble to hunt 
them down through various works, in notes 
at the end of each Lecture. I have sub¬ 
joined a list of the names of the principal 
writers quoted in this work, and have 
placed over against their names the periods 
in which they flourished. The list of errata 
in the work appears large, but will be 
found in few instances to affect the sense: 
the principal errors in it are the substitu¬ 
tion of one Greek letter for another in va¬ 
rious instances. I will venture to affirm 
that it's magnitude has not arisen from my 
indolence; and the candid Reader will 
know how to make allowance for imperfec¬ 
tions in sending out such a volume as the 
succeeding one, especially when the cor¬ 
rection of the press rested with myself 
alone; and was performed amid weekly and 
daity, public and private, pressing engage¬ 
ments. I expect to derive much advan¬ 
tage from our public organs of criticism; 
and to candid criticism, criticism such as 
it ought always to be, willing to allow a 
merit as well as a defect, to point out a 


XXVII 


beauty as well as a fault, I shall always 
bow with respect, and shall always be 
happy to avail myself of ifs corrections and 
of it s advice. If I could write a faultless 
volume, I must possess more than human 
powers : if I have produced one which 
shall be useful to the cause of truth and 
religion (and such was my design), I shall 
rejoice in my general success; and, I hope, 
be willing to listen with gratitude to the 
candour which discovers to me where I 
have failed. 


Blackheath-Hill, 
March 20, 1807. 


W. B. C. 


Writers quoted\ or referred to , in the course of the 
Lectures 3 with their respective dates . 

/ 





B. C. 


A. D. 

Orpheus 


- 

1000 

Tacitus - - - 

276 

Hesiod 

•* 

- 

900 

Chalcidius—in the third century 

Homer 


- 

850 

Arnobius - 

300 

Sanchoniathon 

• 

- 

760 

Porphyry - - - 

304 

Xenophanes 


m 

620 

Eusebius - 

342 

Herodotus | 

- 

mm 

484 

Julian - - 

363 

• 

- 

413 

Cyrillus l o( e Alexandria - 

J \ ot Jerusalem 

386 

Plato 


- 

348 

444 

Aristotle 


- 

322 

Epiphanius—died - 

403 

Diodes 

• 

- 

521 

iEneus Gazeus 

490 

Abydenus 


m 

300 

Alexander Trallianus - 

520 

Megasthenes 


mm 

298 

Hermippas 

Menander 

- 

- 

293 

Rhodigenus ( , . 

Numenius ( uncerta,n 


Strato Lampsacenus 

- 

288 


Lycophron 

- 

- 

276 

Eupolemus j 


Manetho 

- 

• 

261 



Aristobulus 


- 

124 

MODERNS. 


Diodorus Siculus 

•» 

m 

44 



Cicero 

m 

m 

43 

Pearson - 

1600 

Trogus Pompeius 


m 

41 

Grotius - - 

1645 

Catullus 

• 

•m 

40 

Usher - 

1655 

Virgil 

• 

• 

18 

Milton - 

1674 



A. D. 

Addison - 

1719 

Kicliolaus Demascenus 

• 

6 

Roll in « . • 

1741 

Suidas 

- 

- 

11 

Saurin 


Ovid 


- 

17 

Burnet 


Strabo 

- 

• 

25 

Whiston 


Apion 

- 

- 

35 

M. de la Pryme 


Philo — about 


- 

50 

Taylor 


Lucanus 

- 

m 

65 

Prideaux 


Seneca 

- 

• 

65 

Bryant 

i 

Pliny the elder 


- 

80 

Shaw 


Solinus 

- 

m 

81 

Pococke 


Josephus — died 

- 

- 

93 

Volney 


Pliny the younger 


- 

103 

Bisselius 


Plutarch 

- 

m 

119 

Allix 


Juvenal - 


mm 

128 

Doddridge 


iElian 


- 

140 

Horne 


Justin 



148 

Poole 


Justin Martyr 

m 

- 

163 

Bruce 


Lucian 

«k 

• 

180 

W atson 


Origen 

m 

- 

200 

Geddes 


Clemens Alexandrinus 

- 

220 

Burn 


Philostratus 


- 

241 

St. Pierre 


Ocellus Lucanus 


- 

250 

Ancient Universal History 


Cyprian 

m 

- 

258 

Ilumphrys’s Annotations 


Longinus 



273 

Encyclopedia Britannica 



CONTENTS 



LECTURE I. 

PAGE 1-34— NOTES, 35-39. 

INTRODUCTORY.-THE NECESSITY OF A DIVINE It EVE’ 

RATION. 

Job. xi. 7—9.— Apology for the undertaking — Statement of the 
plan of the Lectures—Mode of discussion proposed, by an appeal 
to the heathen world—Their ignorance of the nature and attributes 
of God—Commencement of man's errors—Source of polytheism—- 
Rise of image-worship—Visible objects—heroes—benefactors—dei¬ 
fied—Impurity of their worship—Sacrifice of human victims—con¬ 
trasted with Christianity—Their civil institutions—their defective 
morals—their systems too refined for the multitude—Universal adap¬ 
tation of Christianity—Their uncertainty respecting the future, in¬ 
stanced by Homer and by Paul at Athens—Revelation has removed 
these difficulties—Infidelity anticipates annihilation—Objections 
against Revelation refuted—State of man without it deplorable- 
expectation of Socrates—Revelation possible, probable, found in 
the Bible alone. 

• \ 

LECTURE II. 

PAGE 41-8 6,—NOTES, 87-95. 

THE CREATION -- THAT THE MOSAIC ACCOUNT OF IT IS 
THE ONLY RATION ALONE WHICH WE HAVE RECEIVED. 

Gen. i. 1.— The province of sense, of reason, and of faith—• 
Incitements to enquire into the origin of all things—all ages have 
attempted it—The several opinions of mankind reduced to Two— 
First, that the world was produced by chance—examined on ac¬ 
knowledged principles—refuted by Cicero—Appeal to the human 
frame, and the conversion of Galen—Hypothesis of the Egyptians 
—a disfigured copy of Moses—hypothesis of modern philosophy— 
Second opinion, that the world is eternal—By whom held—Refuted 
—by the world's mutability*— by philosophical and astronomical 




XXX 


CONTENTS. 


laws—by history—by the arts and sciences—by the origin of na¬ 
tions—Objection raised from some recent discoveries in volcanic 
irruptions considered—tradition of the Creation universal—The 
Being of a God inferred, and our connection with him exhibited— 
Mosaic account of the Creation—Dr. Geddes—Light created—Lon¬ 
ginus—Work of the six days—Enquiries answered—respecting pri¬ 
meval light—astronomy—extent of the Creation—the six days— 
the information of Moses. 

LECTURE III. 

PAGE 96-136.— NOTES, 137-143. 

THE DELUGE. 

Gen. vii. 11-24. 2. Pet. iii. 5—7. —Ruins—apostacy of man— 
progress of vice—antediluvian longevity—Union between the sons 
of God and the daughters of men—Giants—State of the world at 
the time of the Deluge—Plan of the Lecture—The fact established 
—By the general consent of all nations—Testimonies of Abydenus— 
Berosus, Lucian—remark of Grotius—By the existence of marine 
productions on land—Hypothesis of volcanic irruptions examined— 
objections of Buffon and others opposed—Hypotheses of Burnet, 
Whiston, M. de la Pryme, and St. Pierre stated—Effected by 
Divine interposition—Objections, respecting the ark, America, 
infants, and the rainbow, answered—Improvement—appeal to the 
last judgment. 

LECTURE IV. 

PAGE 144-182 —NOTES, 183-185. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF BABEL, THE CONFUSION OE LAN¬ 
GUAGE, THE DISPERSION OF THE PEOPLE, AND THE 
ORIGIN OF NATIONS. 

Gen. xi. 1—9. Obadiah, 3 & 4. —Noah's mingled emotions, of 
pity, of gratitude, and of faith—The fear of man impressed upon 
brutes, and the law for murder—Noah’s failing—his death—genea¬ 
logy of his descendants—his predictions—Nimrod—the original 
tongue—Situation of Shinar—Building of Babel—it’s design and 
form—Imagery of the Bible—Confusion of language, what?—Dis¬ 
persion of the people, how effected?—Origin of nations—supposed— 
uncertain—Ancient testimonies—Fable of the giants—one of the 
Sybils—Abydenus—Enquiries—whether the attempt was criminal ?— 
whether man would have separated without a change of language?— 
whether language would have changed without a miracle ?—Improve¬ 
ment—Our errors spring from the pride of our hearts—appeal to 
Nebuchadnezzar and to Belshazzar—Prosperity often excites re¬ 
bellion:—There can be no security when God is our enemy. 


CONTENTS. 




LECTURE V. 

PAGE 186-230.— NOTES, 231-235. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM AND GOMORRAH. 

• a 

Gen. xix. 15—26. 2. Pet. ir. 6. —Domestic scenes of Ge¬ 

nesis —contrasted with profane writers—the patriarchal tents wel¬ 
comed—Abraham introduced—Idolatry of his country—triumphs of 
faith—titles of Abraham—his infirmity in Egypt—his memorials of 
gratitude—his separation from Lot—the battle of Siddim, and Lot 
rescued—Melchisedec—Interview with Jehovah—Religious worship 
to be guarded—Domestic contention—HagaPs flight—prediction 
respecting Ishmael—Circumcision, and Abraham’s name changed— 
Three angels visit him—God reveals his designs against Sodom, and 
Abraham pleads for it—Two angels visit Lot—Danger threatens the 
city in the morning—Lot hastened—is sent to the mountain—objects 
—pleads for Zoar—obtains his request—The. destruction of Sodom 
sudden—bow effected—The Dead Sea—Lot’s wife—Testimonies of 
Tacitus, Philo, Pliny, Diodorus Siculus, Strabo, and Solinus, to this 
fact—Modern writers—Evidences remaining on the spot—Represen¬ 
tations of the Bible concerning its appearance in different ages— 
correspondent features remain—Testimony of Josephus—Changes 
supposed to be effected by time, and their immediate causes—The 
subject improved—Judgments delayed will yet be executed—The 
righteous are always safe. 

LECTURE VI. 

PAGE 236-274.— NOTES, 275-277. 

THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH. 

Gen. xlix. 22—26. Acts vir. 9—16. — Intervening history slightly 
touched—Sacrifice of Isaac—Death of Sarah—Subsequent events 
enumerated—Joseph’s history commences with his mother’s death— 
and at an interesting age—Jacob’s partiality, and it’s effects upon his 
sons—Joseph’s dreams—His brethren remove from home—Joseph 
visits them—progress of sin in their bosoms, and they resolve to slay 
him—Reuben’s interference—Joseph assumed nothing in consequence 
of his father’s partiality—He is sold, and his coat dyed in blood— 
Jacob’s anxiety and despair—Joseph in Egypt, and in temptation 
—Joseph in prison, and his acquaintance with Pharaoh’s chief 
butler and baker—The chief butler’s ingratitude—Pharaoh’s dreams 
—Joseph’s elevation—Justin’s remarkable testimony—Joseph’s bre¬ 
thren visit Egypt, and know him not—Simeon bound—They return 
dismayed—Benjamin brought into Egypt—on their second return 
Benjamin is arrested—Judah pleads for his brother—Joseph dis¬ 
covers himself—Retrospection—They tell their father of his pros¬ 
perity—Jacob and Joseph meet—Their after-feelings supposed— 


XXX 


CONTENTS. 


laws—by history—by the arts and sciences—by the origin of na¬ 
tions—Objection raised from some recent discoveries in volcanic 
irruptions considered—tradition of the Creation universal—The 
Being of a God inferred, and our connection with him exhibited— 
Mosaic account of the Creation—Dr. Geddes—Light created—Lon¬ 
ginus—Work of the six days—Enquiries answered—respecting pri¬ 
meval light—astronomy—extent of the Creation—the six days— 
the information of Moses. 

LECTURE III. 

PAGE 96-136.— NOTES, 137-143. 

THE DELUGE. 

Gen. vii. 11—24. 2. Pet. iii. 5—7. —Ruins—apostacy of man— 
progress of vice—antediluvian longevity—Union between the sons 
of God and the daughters of men—Giants—State of the world at 
the time of the Deluge—Plan of the Lecture—The fact established 
—By the general consent of all nations—Testimonies of Abydenus— 
Berosus, Lucian—remark of Grotius—By the existence of marine 
productions on land—Hypothesis of volcanic irruptions examined— 
objections of Buffon and others opposed—Hypotheses of Burnet, 
Whiston, M. de la Pryme, and St. Pierre stated—Effected by 
Divine interposition—Objections, respecting the ark, America, 
infants, and the rainbow, answered—Improvement—appeal to the 
last judgment. 

LECTURE IV. 

PAGE 144-182.— NOTES, 183-185. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF BABEL, THE CONFUSION OE LAN¬ 
GUAGE, THE DISPERSION OF THE PEOPLE, AND THE 
ORIGIN OF NATIONS. 

Gen. xi. 1—9. Obadiah, 3 & 4. —Noah’s mingled emotions, of 
pity, of gratitude, and of faith—The fear of man impressed upon 
brutes, and the law for murder—Noah’s failing—his death—genea¬ 
logy of his descendants—his predictions—Nimrod—the original 
tongue—Situation of Shinar—Building of Babel—it’s design and 
form—Imagery of the Bible—Confusion of language, what ?—Dis¬ 
persion of the people, how effected?—Origin of nations—supposed— 
uncertain—Ancient testimonies—Fable of the giants—one of the 
Sybils—Abydenus—Enquiries—whether the attempt was criminal ?— 
whether man would have separated without a change of language?— 
whether language would have changed without a miracle ?—Improve¬ 
ment—Our errors spring from the pride of our hearts—appeal to 
Nebuchadnezzar and to Belshazzar—Prosperity often excites re¬ 
bellion:—There can be no security when God is our enemy. 


CONTENTS. 




LECTURE V. 

PAGE 186 — 230 .— NOTES, 231 - 235 . 

THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM AND GOMORRAH. 

» « 

Gen. xix. 15—26. 2. Pet. ii. 6.—Domestic scenes of Ge¬ 

nesis—contrasted with profane writers—the patriarchal tents wel¬ 
comed—Abraham introduced—Idolatry of his country—triumphs of 
faith—titles of Abraham—his infirmity in Egypt—his memorials of 
gratitude—his separation from Lot—the battle of Siddim, and Lot 
rescued—Melchisedec—Interview with Jehovah—Religious worship 
to be guarded—Domestic contention—HagaPs flight—prediction 
respecting Ishmael—Circumcision, and Abraham’s name changed— 
Three angels visit him—God reveals his designs against Sodom, and 
Abraham pleads for it—Two angels visit Lot—Danger threatens the 
city in the morning—Lot hastened—is sent to the mountain—objects 
—pleads for Zoar—obtains his request—The. destruction of Sodom 
sudden—how effected—The Dead Sea—Lot’s wife—Testimonies of 
Tacitus, Philo, Pliny, Diodorus Siculus, Strabo, and Solinus, to this 
fact—Modern writers—Evidences remaining on the spot—Represen¬ 
tations of the Bible concerning its appearance in different ages— 
correspondent features remain—Testimony of Josephus—Changes 
supposed to be effected by time, and their immediate causes—The 
subject improved—Judgments delayed will yet be executed—The 
righteous are always safe. 

LECTURE VI. 

PAGE 236 — 274 .— NOTES, 275 - 277 . 

THE HISTORY OF JOSEPH. 

Gen. xlix. 22—26. Acts vii. 9—16. —Intervening history slightly 
touched—Sacrifice of Isaac—Death of Sarah—Subsequent events 
enumerated—Joseph’s history commences with his mother’s death— 
and at an interesting age—Jacob’s partiality, and it’s effects upon his 
sons—Joseph’s dreams—His brethren remove from home—Joseph 
visits them—progress of sin in their bosoms, and they resolve to slay 
him—Reuben’s interference—Joseph assumed nothing in consequence 
of his father’s partiality—He is sold, and his coat dyed in blood— 
Jacob’s anxiety and despair—Joseph in Egypt, and in temptation 
—Joseph in prison, and his acquaintance with Pharaoh’s chief 
butler and baker—The chief butler’s ingratitude—Pharaoh’s dreams 
—Joseph’s elevation—Justin’s remarkable testimony—Joseph’s bre¬ 
thren visit Egypt, and know him not—Simeon bound—They return 
dismayed—Benjamin brought into Egypt—on their second return 
Benjamin is arrested—Judah pleads for his brother—Joseph dis¬ 
covers himself—Retrospection—They tell their father of his pros¬ 
perity—Jacob and Joseph meet—Their after-feelings supposed— 


xxxii 


CONTENTS. 


Jacob introduced to Pharaoh—Israel dies-Joseph's mourning-He re¬ 
turns to fulfil his duties in Egypt—and dies also—Concluding Re¬ 
marks on Genesis—It relates facts in which we are concerned, and 
which revelation must necessarily contain—Moses is the author of 
it—The connection between it, and the succeeding books, is inse¬ 
parable—The historian writes like a man convinced of the truth 
of that which he advances—The difference between the style of 
Genesis, and that of his other writings, noticed and accounted for. 

/LECTURE VII. 

/ 

PAGE 273-307. 

A SCRIPTURAL REPRESENTATION OF THE NATURE AND 

DESTINATION OF MAN. 

Gen. ii. 7. Job xxxii; 8.—Introduction—Vegetable world— 
Animal world—Man—His natural dignity—What is spirit?—It’s ope¬ 
rations traced—Understanding—Passions—Memory—Imagination— 
Dreams—It's separate state—The Soul—sleeping scheme examined 
—How represented in the Scriptures—capable of separate joys or 
sufferings—Source of human dignity—Life secretly communicated 
by God—Intelligence distributed variously by the same hand—Mad¬ 
ness—Spiritual knowledge the gift of God—The future existence 
of the spirit flows from him—Reflections—How high is the desti¬ 
nation of the spirit!—It's powers should be devoted to the Deity— 
How vast is it's loss!—How diligently should it be cultivated—Con¬ 
cluding remarks—A Sceptic is an enemy to himself and to man¬ 
kind—Humanity is concerned in the progress of Christianity. 

LECTURE VIII. 

PAGE 308—345.— NOTES, 346-354. 

TIIE SLAVERY AND DELIVERANCE OF ISRAEL IN EGYPT. 

« 

Gen. xv. 13, 14. Acts vii. 35, 36. — The Bible recalls past 
events—Man always man—his information confined to the past and 
the present—be knows nothing of the future—Commencement of 
Exodus—Subject proposed, and it ? s arrangement stated—Changes 
effected in a few years—How much often depends upon an individual 
—Ravages of time impressively pourtrayed by the inspired writer— 
Multiplication of Israel—Their bondage—Children slain—Birth of 
Moses and his exposure—He is rescued by Pharaoh’s daughter—her 
blindness to the future Education of Moses—Difference between man 
and man in talents, in literature, in rank of life, and in piety—Silence 
of Moses respecting the first 40 years of his life—He slays the Egyp¬ 
tian—and flies—He marries Zipporah—He approaches the burning bush— 
his commission opens-he meets the Magicians before Pharaoh—General 


CONTENTS. 


xxxiii 


statement of his miracles—Death of the first-born—The Israelites 
depart—Criticism on the word “ To Borrow” —They pass the Red 
Sea—Foreign testimonies to this fact—There was such a person as 
Moses, proved by Justin and Longinus—*He brought Israel from 
Egypt, proved by Justin, Manetho, Tacitus, Pliny, Trogus Pompeius 
—-Ihe Jews could not have asserted these things, unless they had 
been true, without detection—Testimony of Numenius—The Jews 
themselves could not be imposed upon—These facts are kept in re¬ 
membrance by their rites—Ancient custom of the Egyptians on the 
day before the Passover—Testimony from Diodorus Siculus—An ap¬ 
peal to Scepticism, 

LECTURE IX, 

PAGE 355—38 9.—NOTES, 390, 39L 

TIIE JOURNEY OF ISRAEL IN THE WILDERNESS: TIIEIR 

ESTABLISHMENT IN CANAAN; AND THE CIRCUM¬ 
STANCES ATTENDING THESE EVENTS. 

Joshua xxiv. 2—13. —Reason is to the mind what the eye is to 
the body, and Revelation is to reason what light is to the eye—the 
one is the organ—the other the medium—Revelation necessary to 
elucidate Nature and Providence—and to develope futurity—The Sub¬ 
ject stated in ids extent, and arranged according to the Scripture 
liistory—Character of the Israelites—They murmur for water—Man¬ 
na and quails sent—a fresh supply of water—Two events distinguish¬ 
ed—They subdue Amaiek—The Law given—Contrast between Sinai 
and Calvary—The Golden Calf—The spies bring an evil report of 
Canaan—A general enumeration of succeeding events—and the death 
of Moses—a tribute to his memory—Joshua succeeds him, and the 
situation of Israel stated—They pass Jordan—The fall of Jericho— 
and the fulfilment of Joshua’s curse—A shower of stones, and the 
sun and moon stand still—Foreign testimonies—Positive evidence 
from the most ancient writers to the history at large—from Aristo- 
buius, the Orphic verses, Strabo, Juvenal, Diodorus Siculus, Pliny, 
Tacitus, Calcidius, Hermippas, and the Poets in general—Testimo¬ 
ny of Manetho to the antiquity of these events—Circumstantial evi¬ 
dences—Publicity of the Law—adherence of the Jews to it—it’s 
perfection—impossibility of imposition—So also of the miracles 
of the journey—Customs of the Jews, perpetuated to this hour, re¬ 
fer to these events—Reason for the reservation of the Canaanites— 
aspect of the whole to the Messiah—Objections—that the conduct 
of the Israelites was immoral—that it was cruel—that the instru¬ 
ments used to punish these nations were improper—refuted—Im¬ 
provement—the harmony and success of the designs of God con¬ 
trasted with human fluctuations—he presides in the councils of princes 
—It is pleasant to see the gradual developement of his plans—it 
will be delightful in heaven to review the whole. 

c 


xxxiv 


CONTENTS. 

r 

LECTURE X. 

PAGE 392-4 27.—NOTES, 428-432. 

THE GOVERNMENT OF TIIE JEWS..INCLUDING THE 

THEOCRACY AND MONARCHY, TO TIIE BUILDING OF 

Solomon’s temple : with a confirmation of some 

SUBORDINATE FACTS. 

1. Sam. viii. 6—10, & 19, 20. Acts vii. 44—48. TIeb. xi. 32—34. 
Revelation to be examined with reverence,with caution, and with can¬ 
dour—Retrospection—The subject stated—An enquiry into the rise 
of government—The parental and the patriarchal—Nimrod— 
Origin of monarchy—Selection of Israel—Theocracy—derivation of 
the term—Threefold relation of God to the Hebrews—Distinction of 
the terms, statutes, commandments, judgments, and testimonies— 
Scripture epithets expressive of God’s choice of the Jews—Ap¬ 
pointment of their rulers—Samuel and his sons—Expiration of the 
Theocracy ; and in what sense ?—Monarchy of the Jews—The change 
of government displeasing to God—and why ?—Saul anointed—his 
alienation from God—David brought to court—his friendship with 
Jonathan—Saul and his sons slain—David’s lamentation—Ilis suc¬ 
cession, his character, and his trials—His design to build a temple 
—The'monarchy traced to its close—absorbed in the spiritual 
reign of Jesus—Solomon’s temple—Evidences respecting it—God’s 
presence unconfined—Subordinate Scripture facts confirmed— 
Gideon’s actions by Sanchoniathon—Jepthae’s vow, by the story 
of Iphigenia—Sampson’s foxes, in Ovid’s Roman feasts—Delilah’s 
treachery, in the story of the daughter of Nisus—The strength 
and valour of Sampson, in the labours of Hercules—The victory 
Of David over the Syrians, by Nichelaus Damascenus—The taking 
of Jerusalem, and the destruction of Senaclrarib’s army, by Hero¬ 
dotus—The translation of Elijah, in the story of Phaeton—Jonah’s 
preservation by the whale, is related of Hercules by Lycophron, 
and by iEneus Gazeus—The dearth in the days of Ahab, by 
Menander—and the fire from Heaven which consumed Elijah’s sa¬ 
crifice, by Cyprian, and by Julian—Conclusion—Christ compared 
with Solomon. 

LECTURE XI. 

PAGE 433—470.- NOTES , 471—476. 

THE CAPTIVITIES OF ISRAEL AND OF JUDAH. 

2. Kings xvir. 1—6. 2. Ciiron. xxxvr. 14—21.—The history 

of empires is the record of the human heart—The Bible makes us 
acquainted with men —Cautions arising from Solomon’s fall—Suc¬ 
cession ofRehoboam, and division of the kingdom—The captivity of 
Israel, when ? and by whom ?—Samaritans—Cause of the captivity 
—Menander’s testimony—Man’s abuses of power—Contrasted with 
the benevolence of the Deity—Loss of the ten tribes—Inferences— 
The Messiah was the great object of the Old Testament dispensation 
—The very existence of the Jews depended upon their connection 



CONTENTS. 


XXXV 


with the Saviour—The captivity of Judah, when ? and by whom? 
Intermediate events—The reading of the roll—Nebuchadnezzar's 
first vision explained by Daniel—Total ruin of Jerusalem—Descrip¬ 
tion of Babylon—It’s walls—The bridge and banks of the river— 
Canals—Palace, hanging gardens, and temple—Nebuchadnezzar’s 
pride and fall; related in his decree—Obscurely hinted in Abydenus 
—Confirmed by Herodotus—Asserted by Josephus—Gathered from 
Ptolemy’s Canon—His reign and works mentioned by Berosus, Me- 
gasthencs, Diodes, and Philostratus—Evil Merodach succeeds him 
—Then Neriglasser—Then Belshazzar—Babylon taken by Cyrus— 
I he Jews restored—Improvement—The facility with which God can 
punish nations—Elevation sometimes bestowed upon the worst of 
characters—The power of the wicked limited—War a dreadful 
curse—Let us seek a better world ! 

LECTURE XII. 

PAGE 477—515.- NOTES , 516—522. 

THE LIFE, DEATH, RESURRECTION, AND ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST, 

PROVED AS MATTERS OF FACT. 

Luke ir. 1—7. i. Cor. xv. 3-8. 2. Pet. i. 16. —Sublimity 

allied to terror—God alike great in every point of view—The former 
dispensation has yielded to one more simple and more spiritual— 
The obscurity of antiquity left behind—Tbe subject stated—It relates 
to facts transpiring in the zenith of the glory of Rome—Expectations 
of the world at this period—Extract from Virgil’s Pollio—compared 
with Isaiah’s predictions—Tranquillity of all nations—The decree of 
Augustus—Conjectures respecting this tax, and it’s extent—Inns of 
the East—Poverty of the Saviour’s birth—It is announced to the 
shepherds—Journey of the Magi—who they were—the star which 
conducted them—their country—Testimonies of Pliny and Cliai- 
cidius to this circumstance—Cruelty of Herod—Evidence that Christ 
had been in Egypt—Testimony of Josephus respecting him—Julian, 
Porphyry, and Celsus allow his works—His death—Acts of Pilate 
—asserted by Justin Martyr and Tertullian—Manner of it mentioned 
by Tacitus and by Lucian—Miracles attending his death—Darkness 
supernatural—Testimony of Phlegon—of Suidas—and the remark 
of Dionysius the Areopagite—Burial of the Saviour—Evidences of 
the resurrection—Plea of the guards answered in seven different 
ways—Ascension—Testimony of Pliny to the early worship of 
Christ—General evidences of Quadratus—Tertullian, and Arnobius 
—Improvement—Revelation resembles the guiding Star—in it’s 
nature—in it’s source—in it’s object—and in it’s issue. 

LECTURE XIII. 

PAGE 523-562.- NOTES , 563-564. 

THE CHARACTER OF THE WRITERS OF TIIE OLD AND NEW 

TESTAMENTS. 

1. John i. 1-3. Heb. xi. 36-38.—Sensations excited in heaven 
and upon earth, by the Ascension—The subject stated—I he book* 





xxxvi 


CONTENTS. 


of the Old and New Testaments were really written by those whose 
names they bear, proved by the testimony of their countrymen, and 
the consent of all nations—They were for the most part eye-wit¬ 
nesses of the facts which they recorded—What they did not see 
they derived from the most certain evidences—Their integrity— 
Their impartiality—Their candour—Their wisdom—Their holiness 
_-Their lives contrasted with those of their opponents—'Their mo¬ 
tives disinterested—proved by their actions—and by their preach¬ 
ing—Their testimony respecting themselves-—They believed what 
they taught—proved by their sufferings—They were guided by that 
which they preached—proved by the correspondence ol their lives— 
They could not be deceived in the facts which they relate—They 
w ould not deceive—proved from their acknowledged characters—and 
from their criminality, supposing it possible—Th<ur views stated, and 
their prejudices—Their appeals considered—The concession of their 
enemies—Improvement-—The allowances to be made in reading the 
scriptures—and the spirit in which they should be consulted. 


LECTURE XIV. 

PAGE 565-593- NOTE, 594. 

'THE UNSEARCHABLE GOD : OR, AN ATTEMPT TO PROVE AN 
ANALOGY BETWEEN THE RELIGION OF NATURE AND THAT OF 
THE BIBLE, BY SHEWING THAT THE SAME OBSCURITY WHICH 
OVERSHADOWS REVELATION, EQUALLY OVERSPREADS NATURE 
AND PROVIDENCE. 

Job xxxvi. 14.—Man, a needy dependent creature—in his in¬ 
fancy—his childhood—his youth—his manhood—his death—Reve¬ 
lation meets him on the terms of his nature—Magnitude, beauty, 
and wisdom, comparative terms—Limitation of human powers— 
Created minds swallowed up in the Deity—The subject stated— 
God unsearchable in the w : orks of creation—Ignorance of man in 
early ages—Progress of philosophy—Our present ignorance of the 
planetary system—Attempts to reach the poles frustrated—Our ig¬ 
norance of the minutiae of nature, and of the structure of the human 
frame—God unsearchable in providence—It’s mysteries relative to 
empires—The assistance of Revelation—Its perplexities relative to 
individuals—Partial illumination from the Bible—Our ignorance of 
the invisible w'orlds—These were once unknown altogether—Their 
existence is now clearly proved in the Scriptures—Their nature in 
general is ascertained—But few particulars respecting them have 
transpired—God unsearchable in the word of Revelation—It’s ge¬ 
neral truths exhibited—It’s promises—Concession respectiug it’s dif¬ 
ficulties : but in this very point consists it’s analogy with nature and 
providence—These all are hut partial views of thcDeity—The thunde? 
of his power is inconceivable—Illustrations—Conclusion. 



LECTURES 


ON 

SCRIPTURE FACTS. 


LECTURE I. 

INTRODUCTORY—THE NECESSITY OF A DIVINE 

REVELATION. ' 

job xi. 7— 9 - 

Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst thou 
find out the Almighty unto perfection ? It is high 
as heaven , what canst tliou do ? deeper than hell\ 
what canst thou know ? The measure thereof is 
longer than the earth , and broader than the sea! 

To enlarge the sphere of knowledge, and to 
increase the sum of happiness in the present 
world, is an object worthy the attention of every 
friend of human nature; and the elfort, even 
should it fail, deserves the approbation and the 
applause of wise and good men: but to provide 
consolation against the severest moments of 
trial, to disperse the cloud which hangs over 
“ the valley of the shadow of death,” and to 
conduct the immortal spirit safe to the throne 

B 



i 




2 

of the invisible God, is a purpose far more su¬ 
blime, and an exertion of still greater utility. 
To shed lustre over a few years, or to live in 
remembrance a century or two, and then to be 
forgotten, is comparatively of small importance: 
yet for this the scholar labours, and the hero en¬ 
dures hardship—this is the summit of human 
ambition, and the boundary of it’s most sanguine 
expectations. To shine on the roll of science, 
to pluck honours which fade like the flower of 
the field, while you gather them, or to sparkle 
among the favourites of fortune, is of little avail 
to man, who must soon resign to the merciless 
grasp of death, even the sceptre of the world, were 
it committed to his possession. Yet these things 
are sought amid repeated disappointments; and 
the golden bait is received with increased avi¬ 
dity, although barbed with anguish and sorrow. 
But who regards the silent finger of religion 
pointing to an inheritance above the stars, pro¬ 
mising splendours which shall never expire, and 
waiting to crown the man, who obeys her gra¬ 
cious admonitions, with honour, glory, and im¬ 
mortality ? 

When I remember the occasion on which I 

t 

stand before this large assembly, and the awful 
engagement which, at the solicitation of many 
among you, I have undertaken—I shrink from 
my subject, and enter upon the discussion of it 


3 


with u fear and trembling.” To throw down 
the gauntlet, and to enter the list with winning 
and attractive fashion, is a bold and daring 
effort. It will be admitted that this is a day of 
prevailing infidelity; and surely it will also be 
allowed, that it is the duty of every man, who 
sustains the sacred office of a Christian minister, 
to “ contend earnestly for the faith once de- 
“ livered to the saints*” and to “ give a reason 
u for the hope that is in him.” On this princi¬ 
ple the Lecturer presumes to offer his mite to the 
Lord of the Treasury towards the support of 
this great and common cause. It may be asked, 
why hoary age should not rather enter upon this 
arduous work? Would to God that more efforts 
were made on the part of able and faithful mi¬ 
nisters, equally venerable for years and for litera¬ 
ture, against the common enemy! Those, how¬ 
ever, who imagine that age should exclusively 
wield the “ two-edged sword” against scepticism, 
will do well to remember, that the opposite cause 
is not supported altogether, or for the most part, 
by years, experience, and learning. No, these 
are far from being exclusively our opponents. 
The young, the inexperienced, and the illiterate, 
have united with the sage and the philosopher, 
against the claims and obligations of revelation. 
While even school-boys daringly renounce a sys¬ 
tem which they have not examined, which they 

£ 3 




4 


cannot, alas! appreciate, and embrace one which 
they do not understand, may it not be per¬ 
mitted to a young man to say something in fa¬ 
vour of a volume, which, if he should not suc¬ 
ceed in defending it, he can truly say he ad¬ 
mires and loves ? Let the wise and the learned 
rouse to action, and produce their “ strong rea- 
“ sons”—I shall be among the first to sit at their 
feet: but upon persons of my own age, I feel 
that I have a peculiar claim; I trust that they 
will hear me with candour and respect; and for 
them principally I have suffered this engage¬ 
ment to be announced to the public. Let youth 
be opposed to youth, age to age, talent to ta¬ 
lent. Let the enemies of revelation know, that 
we can ascend to their eminence, or sink to 
their level. Let it be seen, that some are grow¬ 
ing up to support the Redeemers kingdom, 
while others finish their course, and are gathered 
to their fathers. 

It may be said, that so many have undertaken 
this cause, and acquitted themselves so ably, 
that neither any thing new can be advanced, nor 
is it indeed necessary. It is readily granted, 

that I am to tread in a beaten track; but while 

* 

scepticism continues to press upon us old objec¬ 
tions in new forms, we must follow their ex¬ 
ample in refuting those objections : and it is as 
necessary as it ever was to oppose the standard 


5 


of truth to that of error, so long* as our adver¬ 
saries determine to keep the field, and to main¬ 
tain the combat. So far from flattering myself 
that I am striking out a new path, I shall pro¬ 
fessedly set before you, from time to time, such 
arguments and testimonies as I am able to col¬ 
lect from others; and shall freely use every au¬ 
thor that may be serviceable to the cause which 
I attempt to defend. And if I shall be able to 
set an old argument in a new light, or even to 
bring one to remembrance only, I shall be sa¬ 
tisfied to be regarded a compiler of evidences, 
rather than a creator of them ; I shall be amply 
awarded for my labour, nor will you regret your 
attendance. When, however, I recollect, that 
we all gather our stores of knowledge from the 
writings or conversation of others ; that the ex¬ 
perience and observation of the wisest of men 
could furnish him with comparatively little in¬ 
telligence, were it never permitted to advance 
beyond its own immediate sphere; and when in 
addition to these considerations, I remember 
that every man has his own train of thinking, 
and a mode of expression peculiar to himself, I 
flatter myself that all which shall be said, will 
not be borrowed, if all is not exclusively my 
own; and that something may be advanced in 
the course of these lectures, which, if it should 
not surprise by its novelty, may be candidly 

b 3 



6 

received for its justness, and attract by its sim¬ 
plicity and sincerity. 

It will be proper, in a few words, to state the 
immediate purpose of these lectures, and the ob¬ 
ject of the plan which I am about to suggest: 
it is simply to meet scepticism on its own ground 
in relation to first principles. Is it asserted that 
the facts recorded in this volume have no evi¬ 
dence? We shall endeavour to prove that they 
are furnished with all the evidence which events 
so remote can have, and which Reason ought to 
require of Time. Is it said that Christianity is 
a modern invention ? On the contrary, if our 
purpose be established, it will appear as old as 
the creation. Is the authority of the scriptures 
questioned ? We will produce other testimonies. 
Is it’s history condemned as absurd ? We shall 
attempt to shew that it is perfectly rational; 
and that all evidences weighed, and all circum¬ 
stances considered, it is clear that events could 
not have taken place otherwise than as they are 
recorded. Is it objected, that it claims support 
from miracles ? It will follow from our repre¬ 
sentations, if they are made with the strength 
and clearness which we desire, that such a book, 
so written, and so supported, could it be proved 
to be false, would be of itself a greater miracle 
than any which appears upon it’s pages. The 
facts which it records, are the immediate sub- 


7 

jects of examination in the present course of 
lectures ; and these will be considered in con¬ 
nection with their history, and confirmed by 
foreign and ancient testimony, under the fol¬ 
lowing arrangement: 

1. The present Lecture, which is merely intro¬ 
ductory, will be an attempt to prove the 
necessity of a divine Revelation. 

2. The Creation: that the Mosaic account of 
it is the only rational one which we have 
received: 

3. The Deluge: 

4. The destruction of Babel, the confusion of 
language, the dispersion of the people, and 
the origin of nations: 

5. The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrha : 

6 . The history of Joseph; which will bring us 
to the close of Genesis : 

7. Intermediate Lecture: a scriptural repre¬ 
sentation of the nature and destination of 
man: 

8. The slavery and deliverance of Israel in 
Egypt: 

g. The journey of the Israelites in the wilder¬ 
ness ; their establishment in Canaan; and 
the circumstances attending these events: 
10. The government of the Jews; including 
the theocracy and monarchy, to the build- 

b 4 


8 


ing of Solomon’s Temple; with a confirma¬ 
tion of some subordinate facts recorded in 
the scriptures: 

11. The captivities of Israel and Judah: 

12. The life, death, resurrection, and ascension 
of Jesus Christ, proved as matters of fact: 

13. The character of the writers of the Old and 
New Testament: 

14. Concluding Lecture—the unsearchable God; 
or, an attempt to prove an analogy between 
the religion of nature and that of the Bible, 
b y shewing that the same obscurity which 
overshadows revelation, equally overspreads 
nature and providence. 

The present subject of discussion is, 

THE NECESSITY OF A DIVINE REVELATION. 

A fair trial of the powers of human reason 
was made during that long and dreary period 
in which the scriptures were confined within 
the walls of Jerusalem, and the world at large 
was left in the unmolested exercise of all the 
means furnished by nature and philosophy, to 
conduct the mind to God. To that period we 
shall therefore recur; and shall endeavour to 
ascertain what were the discoveries made by the 
most enlightened among the Heathens, respect- 


9 

I 

mg the nature of Deity, the relation which he 
bears to us, the obligations under which we are 
laid to him, the consequences of death, the se¬ 
crets of futurity, and all those things which are 
so interesting to man, as an immortal being. It 
is fair to judge of the powers of nature and of 
reason, from the effects produced by their agen¬ 
cy, when they were left altogether to them¬ 
selves. It is unfair in the advocates of scep¬ 
ticism to avail themselves of the superior intelli¬ 
gence afforded by revelation, and to use this 
knowledge against the volume from which they 
derived it. It is not possible to determine with 
any degree of precision, what discoveries the un¬ 
assisted light of reason is capable of making, while 
it is aided, and indeed absorbed, by the superior 
illumination of revealed religion; it must there¬ 
fore be admitted, that a fair and accurate in¬ 
vestigation of its powers, can only be made by 
looking at it as it really appeared when it was 
seen alone. We ask with confidence, whether 
at that period of the world, when science un¬ 
veiled all her splendours, and irradiated the dis¬ 
covered globe from pole to pole; when philoso¬ 
phy sat upon her throne enjoying the zenith of 
her power; and when reason had attained the 
meridian of her glory; a system more honour¬ 
able to God, more adapted to the wants and the 


10 


felicity of man, and more productive of moral 
excellence, than that which is suggested in the 
scriptures, was produced? We defy scepticism 
to answer in the affirmative. Did the mild phi¬ 
losophy of Socrates and of Plato; did the ele¬ 
gant mind of Cicero; did all the heathen phi¬ 
losophers in their combined exertions, ever pro¬ 
duce such affecting elucidations of divine good¬ 
ness, such consoling demonstrations of divine 
mercy, such delightful discoveries of life and 
immortality? They never did. And we shall 
attempt to prove to you the necessity of a di¬ 
vine revelation from the state of the world, at 
that very period when these eminent persons 
flourished. We shall not cause to pass before 
you, rude and barbarous nations; but we shall 
bring to the test, scientific Greece, learned and 
polite Athens, polished, proud, imperial Rome. 
We solicit your attention to 

I. Their superstitions and rites of 
worship : 

II. Their civil institutions and their 
defective morals: 

III. Their uncertain conjectures in re¬ 
lation TO FUTURITY. 

I. Their superstitions and rites of wor¬ 
ship. And in contemplating the state of religion 


11 


4 


during the boasted reign of reason and philoso¬ 
phy, we cannot but be struck with their igno¬ 
rance of 

1. The nature and the attributes of 
God. When man was left to wander over this 
wide globe without one cheering ray to guide 
his feet, the light of nature excepted, the pro¬ 
gression of erroneous conclusions founded upon 
one false principle was rapid and extensive. He 
beheld this fair world covered with every thing 
necessary to his existence, and to his enjoy¬ 
ments. Spring enchanted all his senses: a 
summers sun poured his glories around him: 
autumn furnished his table; and experience 
taught him to secure her bounty in his rude 
habitation, while the blasts of winter howled 
round his dwelling, and spread desolation over 
the plains. He perceived that these seasons re- 
gularly returned, and that they departed in their 
order. He concluded that they had their ap¬ 
pointed periods; and this suggested to him the 
conviction of a supreme, over-ruling Intelli¬ 
gence. In every nation, and in every age, the 
conception of the being of a God, presented 
itself to the human mind; and an Atheist was 
a monster even in the days of heathenism. He 
had no clear conception, however, of spirit dis¬ 
tinct from matter; and therefore conjectured 
that this God might be visible. Here com- 


12 


menced his errors. He looked around in search 
of this great first cause. He beheld the sun ashe 
performed his apparent journey round the globe. 
When his beams were tempered with gentleness, 
it was spring: when they poured their most fer¬ 
vid radiance upon the earth, it was summer: their 
continued vivification produced the maturity of 
autumn; and their total absence, or partial in¬ 
fluence, the storms and the gloom of winter. 
But, when he re-appeared, the snow dissolved, 
rivers flowed afresh, and the face of nature was 
renewed. Of all the objects around him, which 
could be so likely to be the God of nature? or, 
in the eye of philosophy itself, what presented 
so perfect a resemblance of the Deity? The 
Persian raised him an altar, and bowed with 
fervour before his shrine. 

But the sun was not the only benefactor of 
man. Night spread her mantle over him, and 
he sought repose. The moon lighted him from 
his labour, and diffused a silvery, partial illumi¬ 
nation upon the face of creation, which before 
her rising was enveloped in perfect obscurity. 
In her appearance she resembled the ruler of 
the day; and the conclusion was irresistible, 
that she ought to divide with him the honours 
of worship. Thus while the sun scorched the 
head of the adoring Persian: the worshippers of 


13 


the moon rent the air with shouting, “ Great is 
Diana of the Ephesians.” Still but two of the 
hosts of heaven were considered. The smaller 
appearances of light, kindled in the skies, during 
the absence of the sun, were deemed of the same 
nature, and supposed to answer the same pur¬ 
poses, with the larger; and it was at length 
inferred that they also should be remembered as 
objects of adoration; although possibly sub- 
ordinately to the others, as they were inferior in 
glory. Hence sprang polytheism. 

The arts and sciences in the mean time ad¬ 
vanced ; and while they were erecting for them¬ 
selves splendid habitations, they thought that 
their deities ought to derive some honour from 
the enlargement of useful knowledge. Temples 
arose, and altars were elevated. There the wor¬ 
shipper adored his supposed deity with greater 
convenience. A resemblance of his God oc¬ 
curred to his mind, as desirable. The idea was 
eagerly adopted. On some altars the fire flamed, 
as the purest emblem of the sun. Others copied 
the figure of the waxing moon, and described 
a crescent. Others adored the resemblance of 
a star *. But the Egyptian, ever ready in sym¬ 
bols, considered the qualities of his deities; 




* Acts vii, 43, 




14 


and whether they were energy or fervour as in 
the sun, or gentleness and softness as in the 
moon, he represented them by the unbending 
strength of manhood, or the mild, dignified 
chastity of the woman. When the mind had 
once seized the counterpart of it’s imaginary 
god in nature, there quickly sprang up an Apollo, 
and a Hercules, and a Diana. Here arose 

IMAGE-WORSHIP. 

Nor did human infatuation end here. Every 
object around them was deified. The heavens, 
the air, the sea, the very earth, were adored under 
the names of Jupiter, Juno, Neptune, and Cy- 
bele. The catalogue was swelled to infinity! 
Their fellow men whom they either feared or 
loved, were exalted to heavenly dominion. A 
conqueror deluged the world in blood. Desola¬ 
tion attended his footsteps. The wreath with 
which he bound his forehead was nurtured in 
the field of slaughter, and washed in the tears 
of widows and orphans. Sighs filled the float¬ 
ings of his banner; and he drove his chariot 
with frozen insensibility over the slain in the 
midst of the battle. He was a curse to the earth, 
and execrated by the nations. He enlarged in¬ 
deed the limits of his empire; but every inch of 
ground added to his own dominions, was an en¬ 
croachment upon those of his neighbours, and 
was purchased at the expense of the heart’s 


15 


blood of his contemporaries. After his death, 
dazzled by his exploits, his infatuated subjects 
paid him divine honours, and placed him among 
their worthless deities. One man taught his 
countrymen to cast seed into the ground, after 
it had been broken up, and thus to cause “ the 
“ little one to become a thousandand he was 
worshipped as presiding over the fruits of the 
earth. Another availed himself of the cloud¬ 
less atmosphere of Babylon, and ascending a 
lofty tower, made early observations on the 
heavenly bodies: he was adored as the king of 
heaven. A third, by dint of attention, foretold 
the return of periodical winds ; and he was wor¬ 
shipped as having charge of the storms, under 
the name of JEolus. A fourth crossed the ocean, 
and in a frail bark committed himself to the 
mercy of the winds and waves. Both the hero 
and his ship were instantly translated to the 
skies; and at this hour a constellation in the 
heavens bears their name, and keeps the daring 
enterprise in remembrance. While a fifth, dis¬ 
covering medicinal virtues in plants, and apply¬ 
ing them with success in certain cases, became 
the god of medicine, was said to unpeople the 
grave, and was adored under the name of Escu- 
lapius*. To pursue the subject, would be use- 


*See note at the end of this Lecture, 




16 


less and wearisome; every part of the heavens, 
the earth, the air, the sea, and the supposed 
infernal world, was crowded with deities; and 
every succeeding tyrant, as the first act of his 
reign, gave his merciless predecessor a place 
among the gods. 

While they all professedly admitted that there 
was one supreme being who presided over their 
multiplied divinities, and held them all in sub¬ 
jection, they perpetually disagreed on the point 
to whom this honour belonged; and the su¬ 
preme deity of one country, held only a subor¬ 
dinate place in another. 

Respecting the attributes of the objects of 
their worship, they discovered unequalled igno¬ 
rance and impiety. We are compelled to draw 
a veil over the principles and operations of these 
pretended deities; for the tale is too gross to 
recite in the ear of modesty; and the picture 
could not meet the eye, without calling up a 
blush of shame, sorrow, and indignation, on the 
cheek, of innocence. Who must not shudder with 
horror when he reads, that these sons of reason 
and philosophy, ascribed to the holy and invisi¬ 
ble God, uncleanness, and every detestable vice* *? 


■ t 

* The gross impurity to which this paragraph alludes, was princi¬ 
pally ascribed in the mythology of the heathens to Jupiter, their 
prem deity. 





17 

W e will pass on from the nature and number 
of their deities, to consider, 

* 

2. Their worship of God. Their religious' 
adoration, so called, was such as would have 
been better suited to the house of an harlot, 
than to the temple of God. Lasciviousness was 
sanctioned, encouraged, and practised, under the 
holy and venerable name of religion. The more 
infamous the rites, the more acceptable were 
they supposed to be to the Deity. The apostle 
Paul has delineated in strong colours, the affect¬ 
ing depravity of that dreary and comfortless 
period. 

“ Because when they knew God, they glori- 
“ tied him not as God, neither were thankful; 

“ but became vain in their imagination; and 
“ their foolish heart was darkened. Professing 
“ themselves to be wise, they became fools; 

“ and changed the glory of the uncorruptible 
“ God, into an image made like to corruptible 
“ man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and 
“ creeping things. Wherefore God also gave 

“ them up to uncleanness.-Who changed 

“ the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped 
“ and served the creature more than the Crea- 
“ tor, who is blessed for ever, amen. For this 
“ cause God gave them up unto vile affec- 
“ tions-.” 




18 


The whole of this awful and well-founded ac¬ 
cusation, which contains in it things not to be 
so much as named among us, is given in the 
first chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, from 
the twenty-first verse to the end. And he who 
has read the Satires of Juvenal, or is at all ac¬ 
quainted with the history of those times, cannot 
dispute for a moment the fidelity of the apostle’s 
testimony. 

It is the first principle of our nature to be¬ 
lieve the existence of a God; and the first dic¬ 
tate of our reason, that, admitting this exist¬ 
ence, we are bound to serve him, to obey 
him, and to sacrifice whatever we hold most- 
dear to his demand. This is the dictate of 
reason, assisted or unassisted by the light of 
revelation. The Bible has directed this convic¬ 
tion to a proper object; and has specified the 
sacrifice which we should make, and the offer¬ 
ing which duty requires us to present, when it 
says, “ I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies 
“ of God, that ye present your bodies a living 
“ sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which 
“ is your reasonable service.” When “ darkness 
“ covered the earth, and gross darkness the peo- 
“ pie,” the self-same principles were held; but 
alas! they were not directed to a right object! 
It is affecting; to see the wretched and ignorant 
sons of men obeying the dictates of reason on 


i 


this point, and, convinced that sacrifices ought 
to be presented to the Deity, concluding that 
he was “ altogether such an one as themselves,” 
and forming a false estimate of his character 
and perfections, offering all that was most pre¬ 
cious to them, to the extinction of parental 
feeling, and in contempt of the voice of hu¬ 
manity. See yonder Druid, with fierceness 
glaring in his eyes, and the consecrated branch 
in his hand, polluting thy soil, O Britain! with 
the ashes of hundreds of victims consumed in 
an enormous image! But soft—we promised to 
produce examples only from polished nations, 
and from empires at the zenith of their glory. 
And we shall not have read far in the pages 
which record the brightest splendours of anti¬ 
quity, before we find the “ pitiful woman” offer¬ 
ing her first born for her “ transgression, the 
“ fruit of the body for the sin of the soul;” the 
mother “ forgetting her sucking child”, and 
“ ceasing to have compassion upon the son of 
“ her womb.” My heart fails me, and the blood 
curdles in my veins with horror, when I recol¬ 
lect that it was a custom common among the 
Carthagenians to sacrifice children to Saturn, 
file statue of that idol was of brass, and formed 
with extended arms; but so constructed, as to 
suffer whatever was placed upon them, to fall 
into a fierce fire, flaming in a furnace at the 


20 


foot of the image. The trembling parent ap¬ 
proached with a countenance of ease which ill 
concealed the anguish of the heart, and pre¬ 
sented his child. The distracted mother im¬ 
printed, with a parched lip, a last kiss upon the 
blooming cheek of her smiling infant. The fe¬ 
rocious priest, clothed in scarlet, received the 
unconscious babe from the maternal embrace; 
and placing it on the arms of this infernal image, 
it fell into the fire. At that instant the drums? 
were beat, and the air rang with acclamations 
from the surrounding multitude, to cover the 
agony of the bereaved parents, and to drown 
the shrieks of the consuming victim ! On one 
occasion", two hundred children of the first 
families in Carthage, were thus immolated! and 
on their annual sacrifices, those who had no 
children were accustomed to purchase those of 
the poor for this horrible purposef. 

These are thy boasted triumphs, O reason! 
May God graciously preserve to us the teachings 
of the scriptures ! At this mournful review of 
the blood-stained trophies of cruel and inexo¬ 
rable superstition, surely every parent must feel 
the necessity,- and value the blessing of a divine 


* When Agathocles was about to besiege Carthage. 

f Plutarch de Supcrstitione. See also note Q, at the end of this 
Lecture. 


* 


* 





21 


Revelation! Hail Christianity ! It was thine to 
teach us “ a more excellent way”: it was thine 
to overthrow the altars erected to an “ unknown 
“ God,” and defiled with human blood: it was 
thine to do away the impure rites which cannot 
be named without a blush, for the weakness and 
the wickedness of human nature : it was thine 
to roll the dark portentous cloud from the un¬ 
derstanding : it was thine to demand the peace¬ 
ful, noble sacrifice of the body by the crucifixion 
of its lusts and passions! And it is a reasonable 
service ; for it is consonant with the purest dic¬ 
tates of reason : it is not a grievous service: it 
violates no principle of nature: it tortures no 
feeling of humanity. It is the only reasonable 
service which man can offer, and which is wor¬ 
thy the acceptance of Deity: yet which, but 
for the light of Revelation, had never been dis¬ 
covered. Thy peace-speaking voice requires no 
blood to be shed; for the “ sacrifice for sin” has 
already been presented in the death of Jesus 
Christ: it requires no mortification of our feel¬ 
ings but such as are depraved, and which were 
introduced into the mind by sin; but which are 
not the genuine feelings of humanity, because 
they were not implanted in the day when God 
made man “ in his own image.” The only 
slaughter demanded on thy altar, is that of vice 
and immorality, of a bitter, unforgiving spirit, 

c 3 



22 


of a proud, imperious, untractable disposition, 
of a useless, ungodly life! 

But we pass on to another review of the state 
of the heathen world; and argue the necessity 
of a divine revelation, from 


II. Their civil institutions ; and their 

DEFECTIVE MORALS. 

1 . Th e i r c i v i l i nst i tution s. Vice was tolera¬ 
ted ; the principles of humanity were violated; and 
parental feelings tortured. Suicide was esteem¬ 
ed the strongest mark of heroism ; and the per¬ 
petrators of it, who ought to have been branded 
with everlasting infamy, were celebrated by 
their historians and poets, as men of superior 
minds. Implacable hatred to enemies was 
deemed a virtue; and an unforgiving spirit was 
cherished, and esteemed manly fortitude. Ha- 
milcar, the father of Hannibal, caused his child, 
at the age of nine years, to swear, that he would 
never be reconciled to the Romans. The in* 
famous traffic with human blood was permitted 
in its utmost extent; and, alas! is continued 
this day among nations professedly Christian; 
although the mild and gentle precepts of the 
gospel plead against it; and religion and hu¬ 
manity unite their voices to demand of the op- 


23 


pressor, “ What hast thou clone ? The voice of 
“ thy brother’s blood crieth from the groundf 
Permission was given to the citizens, on certain 
occasions, to kill their slaves. One of the wisest 
legislators of the heathen world, commanded 
that all children should be exposed, who ap¬ 
peared in any respect maimed or defective : and 
thus was the horrible practice of destroying in¬ 
fants who did not seem likely to be of service 
to the state, not merely openly tolerated, but 
expressly instituted. The result of these pre¬ 
vailing opinions and pernicious institutions, was 
as might be expected, 

2. A MOST DEFECTIVE SYSTEM OF MORALS. 

Depravity was the inevitable consequence of so 
barbarous a system. The world was an acelda- 
ma—a perpetual scene of violence on some occa¬ 
sions, when it was agitated by ambition; and 
on others, in seasons of peace, was polluted by 
every abominable and nameless vice. Virtue 
was a mere shadow—a name. It was service¬ 
able as a subject of eulogy in the schools; but 
was little reduced to practice ; and for the most 
part, their very virtues leaned to the side of un¬ 
natural severity. In the fragments of antiquity, 
we meet with some beautiful pieces of morality: 
but unfortunately the history of those times 
proves, that the deportment even of the persons 
who wrote these admirable precepts, contradict- 

c 4 


u 


ed all their recommendations; and that they 
broke, one by one, every rule which they pre¬ 
scribed to others. We are moved with pity in 
reviewing: a ires when men thought and wrote so 
well; and lived so immorally. So many vices 
were called by the name of virtue, that it is dif¬ 
ficult to imagine, what they would call vice, 
save cowardice. Their most eminent and en¬ 
lightened characters were guilty of crimes not 
to be recited ; and the general character of the 
whole heathen world was, that they were “ given 
“ over to a reprobate mind, to do those things 
“ which were not convenient' 7 . The palaces of 
the Cassars raised their imperial turrets to the 
skies, crowned with matchless magnificence: 
but within, they were stained with every spe¬ 
cies of impurity. It is not possible to read the 
account given of these monarchs who held the 
sceptre of the world, without pity and indig¬ 
nation. The narration of Suetonius, alternately 
elevates and depresses, informs and pollutes 
the mind of the reader : and if one moment we 
follow the warrior through his victories with 
delight, and participate his triumph, the next 
discovers him to us in his retirement, an object 
of horror and disgust, “ committing all manner 
of uncleanness with greediness ’. The general 
contamination may well be imagined, when 
Horace obscures his genius with shameless inde- 


25 


cency, and the elegant pen of Virgil sullied his 
pages with .impurity. I dare not refer to my 
authority for this mortifying statement; but it 
is a subject which, alas, admits of no dispute. 
We observe in general, respecting the heathen 
world, 

3. That their systems were too refined 
for the common people. And here Christianity 
triumphs. It’s morality is pure, simple, intelligible, 
adapted to the meanest capacity. All other reli¬ 
gions on the face of the earth were formed, for 
the most part, for the rich, and for the wise. This 
was a grand defect in their system. Their theo- 
logy was so complex, that the philosopher alone 
could comprehend it’s refinements, while the 
vulgar were abused with the grossest fables, as 
a substitute for religion. It’s mysteries were 
professedly held back from the scrutiny of the 
crowd. But the gospel is the consolation of the 
poor. It has no mysteries which are dark to a 
plain understanding, and fathomable by the 
wise: no mysteries but such as are necessarily 
beyond the limited comprehension of reason; 
therefore equally obscure to the peasant and to 
the philosopher. Of it’s fundamental principles, 
“ a way-faring man” is a competent judge ; and 
they descend to the level of his uncultured in¬ 
tellect. Other religions required splendid sa¬ 
crifices, such as a poor man could not present; 


26 


priestly demands were made, beyond his ability 
of performance; and the temple was barred 
against him, because he could not pay the fee 
of entrance. But the religion of Jesus addresses 
itself to every description of men; and hides 
the poor under the shadow of it’s wings, from 
the ills and the injuries of life. It's adaptation 
to human infirmity, is universal. Other reli¬ 
gions were the religions of the city, of the em¬ 
pire, of the century: and varied with the changes 
of custom. But Christianity is equally suited to 
the East, the West, the North, or the South; 
it is adapted to the European, the African, the 
Asiatic, and the American : all are implicated 
in the charges it brings against human nature, 
all are drawn in the characters it delineates, and 
all are interested in the discoveries which it 
makes of life and immortality. But we forbear 
—we are not desirous to pronounce an eulogium 
on Revelation, but to prove its necessity from 
the state of the heathen world before it’s intro¬ 
duction; in order to which, we request your 
attention further, to 


III. —Their uncertain conjectures in re«* 

LATION TO FUTURITY. 

To the mind even of the philosopher, futu¬ 
rity was, like the chaos of Moses, fathomless, 


27 

empty, without shape or order, and “ darkness 
was upon the face of the deep.” The poets sang 
of Elysian fields and Tartarean punishments; 
but these were regarded as the flights of an ar¬ 
dent imagination; and the fictions under which 
their theories were buried, were openly rejected 
by the wisest among them. Who does not pity 
the genius of the immortal Homer, labouring 
under the pressure of this mournful ignorance ? 
In vain he stretches the wing of his imagina¬ 
tion to penetrate the secrets of futurity—not 
an object could be seen through the gloom. In 
vain he would carry the torch of reason into 
the world of spirits—the shadows of death ex¬ 
tinguish it. When he draws the picture of eter¬ 
nity with the pencil of fancy, he makes his 
greatest hero prefer a miserable life, laden with 
all the woes of this valley of tears, to the 
highest honours which can be bestowed after 
death*. Some of the most enlightened among 
them, agitated the question respecting the im¬ 
mortality of the soul; yet their reasoning led 
them no higher than conjecture, and they could 
not attain the firmness of persuasion. Nor 
had it ever entered into thoir most sanguine ex¬ 
pectations respecting the body that he who first 
constructed the machine, and took it in pieces, 


* See note 3, at the end af the Lecture 




28 


should again put it together, and frame it for 
immortality. This was an idea so totally novel 
to them, that when Paul preached at the Areo¬ 
pagus, before the polished and enlightened 
Athenians, “ Jesus and the resurrection of the 
dead, some mockedothers said, “ He seemeth 
to be a setter forth of new Godswhile a few 
concluded that they would “ hear him again of 
this matter/’ 

Revelation has done that for man, which 
neither reason nor philosophy could effect. In 
the exercise of the powers of our mind, upon 
the scenery by which we are surrounded, we rise 
to the great Parent of all; and deduce some 
conclusions respecting his nature, from the ope¬ 
rations of his hand: yet have we seen that these 
conclusions were frequently erroneous. The re¬ 
ligion of nature cannot go further than to teach 
us, that there is a God, all-powerful, all-wise, 
all-good; and this is more than it taught the 
heathen world perfectly. Rut it leaves us igno¬ 
rant of our relation to him : it is unable to un¬ 
ravel the more interesting parts of his character; 
it cannot develope the harmony of his attributes. 
A thousand enquiries are suggested, to which 
we receive no answer. We are placed in cir¬ 
cumstances for which, on principles of reason, 
we cannot account; and perceive the existence 
of evil, unable to discover it’s source. We la- 


29 

bour under a curse, from which, by the light 
of nature, we see no deliverance; and are in 
possession of an existence, for which we per¬ 
ceive no adequate end. Those tilings which 
are the most interesting, are also the most un¬ 
certain; and that which we know naturally, 
only serves to kindle a thirst to leam more, 
which, on the principles of nature and reason 
merely, cannot be satiated. For what has the 
light of philosophy done, but rendered dark¬ 
ness visible ? It has strained the powers of rea¬ 
son and imagination, till they could be stretched 
no further; yet without bringing one hidden 
truth to light. It has perplexed and bewildered 
the mind by contradictory hypotheses. It has 
exhausted the charms of eloquence, and ener¬ 
vated the force of argument, in establishing 
favourite systems upon the ruins of those which 
preceded them, only to be pulled down in their 
turns, to make way for others equally absurd, 
and equally false. After dragging us through 
mazes of intricate reasoning, it leaves us pre¬ 
cisely at the point at which it found us, all un¬ 
certainty, obscurity, and suspense. “ The world 
by wisdom know not God.” We appeal to facts— 
they are before you—and we confidently ex¬ 
pect your decision upon their testimony. 

It is here that Revelation takes up the pro¬ 
cess, and disperses the mist of uncertainty. It 


30 


professes not indeed to reason upon subjects 
beyond the comprehension of the human mind; 
but it reveals the fact and requires our assent to 
it: which we may safely give, although we do 
not comprehend the whole of that which is re¬ 
vealed. Those parts which we do comprehend, 
we conceive to be true and wise: may we not 

reasonably conclude that those which we do not 
%/ 

completely understand are equally so; and that 
the deficiency is in our natural powers, and not 
in the subject investigated? Those who call 
upon you to relinquish your Bibles, have not 
attempted to fathom the depths of futurity. 
They rather wish you to consider the scanty 
period of “ three-score years and ten,” the 
boundary of the hopes, the joys, and the expec¬ 
tations of man. They place beyond death— 
annihilation ! The thought is insufferable ! 
Say, you who have dropped the parting tear into 
the grave of those whom you loved,—is this a 
consoling system? Are the most tender con¬ 
nections dissolved to be renewed no more? Must 
I resign my brother, my parent, my friend, my 

child- for ever? What an awful import 

these words bear ! Standing upon the grave of 
my family, must I say to it’s departed members, 
—“ Farewell! ye who were once the partners 
“ of my joys and sorrows ! I leaned upon you 
for support; I poured my tears into your bo- 



/ 


31 

“ som; I received from your hands the balm 
“ of sympathy—But it is no more! No more 
“ shall I receive your kindness; no more shall I 
“ behold you! The cold embrace of death clasps 
“ your mouldering bodies; and the shadows of 
“ an impenetrable midnight brood for ever 
“ upon your sepulchres!”—No! We cannot re¬ 
linquish Christianity for a system which con¬ 
ducts us to this fearful close! When scepticism 
shall have provided a substitute for our present 
hopes, we will listen with more confidence to 
it’s proposals. 

And yet the cry of modern philosophy is 
against the only pledge of immortality af¬ 
forded the human race. Where is the gratitude 
of such conduct? Are we not indebted to it for 
all the illumination which we enjoy? Did Pa¬ 
ganism disappear, till Christianity exerted her 
benign influence? Did not man in a state of na¬ 
ture demand and offer human victims? And did 
not Revelation stay the effusion of blood, and 
abolish these infamous rites? Is it not friendly 
to science and civilization? Is it not inimical to 
whatever is injurious to the interests of man ? 
Where is the wisdom of such an opposition ? Be¬ 
fore you banish this, produce a better system: 
shew us “ a more excellent wayteach us mo¬ 
rality more sublime! What is it’s crime? Sedi¬ 
tion? Impossible! It “ puts us in mind to be 


32 


“ subject to principalities and powers, to obey 
u magistrates, to be ready to every good work . 99 
Want of philanthropy? Surely not! Some may 
bear it’s name who do not breathe it’s spirit: 
but their bigotry and illiberality are not charge¬ 
able upon Christianity — Christianity, which 
teaches “ to speak evil of no man, to be no 
“ brawlers, but gentle, shewing all meekness 
“ unto all men.” It substitutes faith for good 
works; and it’s professed teachers set up opi¬ 
nion against morality ? It is a gross calumny ! 
It blends these nominally jarring principles : it 
assigns to each it’s proper place: it requires 
the influence, and commands the agency, both 
of the one and the other: it joins together 
those things which men frequently separate; 
and with equal consistency and plainness, traces 
the causes and effects of salvation ; it has pre¬ 
scribed—“ these things I will that thou affirm 
“ constantly, that they which have believed in 
“ God, be careful to maintain good works.” 

Extinguish the light afforded by this de¬ 
spised volume, and you are precisely in the 
situation of the heathen world. I close the 
Bible; and there remains to you a hope without 
a foundation, assaulted by a thousand dismal 
apprehensions. The planets which roll over 

your head, declare matchless wisdom, and in- 

" ♦ 

calculable immensity. They write in the hea- 


33 


vens, the name of Deity ; and the attributes of 
power, majesty, and immutability. But where 
is the record of pardon ? It is neither written 
by the sun-beam ; nor wafted on the breeze. 
Where is the record of immortality ? It is not 
inscribed on the face of the heavens; nor re¬ 
vealed by the operations of nature. “ The depth 
“ saith, ‘ It is not in me !’ and the sea saith, 
“ * It is not in me’!” Look abroad into crea¬ 
tion. “ Canst thou by searching find out God? 
“ Canst thou find out the Almighty unto per- 
cc fection? It is high as heaven, what canst thou 
“ do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know? 
“ The measure thereof is longer than the earth ; 
“ it is broader than the sea !” 

From what has been advanced, we conclude, 
that the state of man, considered as destitute of 
a revelation of the mind and will of God, is 
truly deplorable. So convinced was Socrates of 
this, that, from the uncertain decisions of rea¬ 
son on the most important subjects, he not only 
concluded that such a divine revelation was 
necessary; but expressed his persuasion, that 
such a communication would be made*. 

If you admit the existence of a God, you 
must grant, that it is possible for him to give 
such a revelation. When it is so essential to 


* See note 4, at the end of this Lecture. 

D 





34 


the happiness of man, can we believe that a 
Being so infinitely gracious as the Deity, would 
suffer us to remain without this source of con¬ 
solation? If a revelation be necessary, it is pro¬ 
bable ; and if it be probable, where are we to 
expect it ? In the mythology of the heathens ? 
In the Koran? In the “ Age of Reason ?” or 
in the Bible? Has there ever been a book pro¬ 
duced, that has any pretensions to inspiration, 
this volume excepted ? And are not it's claims 
arising from external and internal evidences, ir¬ 
resistible ? “ We speak as to wise men, judge ye 
“ what we say !” 


NOTES. 


Note i. —It would not be difficult to enlarge the catalogue of idols, 
enumerated in page 14 and 15, of the preceding Lecture, and to assign 
the different causes of their deification : but to unfold their charac¬ 
ter, which in that case it would be necessary to do, would be an un¬ 
gracious task to the writer, and would afford no pleasure to the reader. 
Our immortal poet has given an ample list of the objects of heathen 
adoration, under their scriptural names; which will be more familiar 
to the Bible reader ; and while he has veiled their actions in modest 
language, he has adorned the sad catalogue, so far as it is possible to 
ornament a barren list, with the nervous eloquence of his majestic 
versification. An abbreviation of his recital is extracted. 

“ Say> Muse, their names then known, who first, who last 
“ Rous’d from the slumber, on that fiery couch, 

“At their great emperor’s call, as next in worth 
“ Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, 

“ While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof.” 

“ First Moloch*, horrid king, besmear’d with blood 
“ Of human sacrifice, and parents’ tears; 

<l Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud, 

“ Their children’s cries unheard, that pass’d through fire 
“ To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite 
“ Worshipp’d in Rabba and her watery plain, 
u In Argob and in Basan, to the stream 
u Of utmost Arnon.”- 


* It is not easy to determine to which of the heathen deities these Hebrew 
names apply. Saturn, probably : for his rites are nearly the same. 


D 2 









36 


NOTES. 


il Next Ciiemos, tli’obscene dread of Moab’s sons 
“ From A roar to Nabo, and the wild 
u Of southmost Abarim; in Hesebon 
<( And Horonaim, Seon’s realm, beyond 
“ The flowery dale ofSibma, clad with vines, 

“ And Eleale to th’ Asphaltic pool. 

“ Peor, his other name, when he entic’d 
u Israel in Sittim.”- 


“ With these came they who from the bordering flood 
u Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts 
i( Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names 
“ Of Baalim and Ashtaroth ; those male, 

u These feminine.”- 

-•“ With these in troop 

“ Came Astoi’eth, whom the Phenicians call’d 
“ Astarte*, queen of heaven, with crescent horns j 
u To whose bright image nightly, by the moon, 

“ Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs.” 

- “ Thammuz t came next behind, 

“ Whose annual w-ound in Lebanon allur’d 
u The Syrian damsels to lament his fate 
“ In amorous ditties all a summer’s day.” 


- u Next came one 

“ Who mourn’d in earnest, w hen the captive ark 

(i Maim’d his brute image—--- 

u DagonJ his name, sea-monster, upward man 

“ And dowmward fish:- 

u -dreaded through the coast 

(< Of Palestine.”--- 

“ Him follow’d Rimmon, whose delightful seat 

u Was fair Damascus.”- 

--“ After these, appear’d 


* Called also Luna, Diana, Ilecate . 


t Adonis. 1 Pi-obably Neptune. 



















NOTES. 


37 


“ A crew, who, under names of old renown, 

“ Osiris, Isis, Orus, and their train, 

<( With monstrous shapes and sorceries abus’d 
Fanatic Egypt and her priests, to seek 
u Their wandering Gods, disguis’d in brutish forms 
iC Rather than human. Nor did Israel ’scape 
“ Th’ infection, when their borrow’d gold compos’d 
“ The calf in Oreb ; and the rebel king 
u Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan.” 


u The rest were long to tell, though far renown’d; 
u Th’ Ionian gods, of Javan’s issue held 
fi Gods, yet confess’d later than heav’n and earth, 

** Their boasted parents: Titan, heav’n ’s first-born, 

“ With his enormous brood, and birth-right, seiz’d 
“ By younger Saturn ; he from mightier Jove, 
u Ilis own and Riiea’s son, like measure found; 
u So Jove usurping reign’d: these first in Crete 
u And Ida known, thence on the snowy top 
“ Of cold Olympus rul’d the middle air, 
u Their highest heaven ; or on the Delphian* cliff, 
u Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 
“ Of Doric land; or who with Saturn old 
11 Fled over Adria to th’ Hesperian fields, 

“ And o’er the Celtic roam’d the utmost Isles.” 

Milton's Paradise Lost, Book 1.1, 376—521, 

Note 2. —The custom of the Carthaginians of consuming children 
in honour of Saturn. 

Diodorus Siculus had been saying, that as the enemy approached 
the city, the Carthaginians imagined that they had offended 

Saturn by restraining their human sacrifices: he adds, hogQu&ctaSon 
Tcz; uyvolcc; (77T£v^ovT£?, &otx.oaiBq gXv run eiutpccnaluruv 
vgox(>ivcivT£<; t'Svffcu ^Ytf^oerix : therefore that they might correct their 
errors without, delay , they immolated in public sacrifice two hundred 


* The Oracle of Apollo. 





3 8 


NOTES. 


chosen boys of their principal nobility. And he thus describes the 
idol Saturn: r,v <He 7 Tag avro7<; K^oi/tf yet?Mo7i;, ex t£T«xw; ra$ 

yfipa.$ V7rlicc<; eyxexMpev'otq etti t»;v yrb, wVh rov ettitevE rwv Tra^w? 
a7roxy^£<7Sat, xa< vriirleev el? r» yfcapa, nrvffix; ; jPor there was 

with them a brazen statue of Saturn , which held it r s extended arms so 
inclined towards the earth, that the child when placed upon it rolled 
off, and plunged into a furnace full offire. 

• Diod. Sic. Lib. %x. 


Justin speaks of the same cruel superstition, thus: “Homines ut 
“victimas immolabant; et impuberes (quae aetas etiam hostium mi- 
“ sericordiam provocat) aris admovebant, pacem deorum sanguine 
“ eorum exposcentes, pro quorum vita dii rogare maximb solent.” They 
immolated na n as victims, and children , whose tender years excited the 
pity even of enemies, they placed upon their altars, purchasing peace 
of the Gods by the blood of those for whose life they were accustomed 
principally to implore the Gods. Just. Hist. Lib. xviii. cap. 6. 

This horrible custom is mentioned also by Heuopotus, Lib. vii. 

The English reader may consult IIollin's Ancient History, 
Vol. I. p. 273. 


Note 3. —These are the melancholy sentiments which Homer puts 
into the mouth of the shade of Achilles : 


e(poe.pnv 0 ae p uvTOi <x.pe^opevo<; TTgocreeiTrev 
pot, Suva. tqv ye 7 Tcc^av^oc, (pcciciip’ O^vaaev' 

B&hoiprjV errocQU^oi; euv $r)Tevepev ccTO^u 

TTCL^ a.x’Kvj^ui, u pn /3ioro$ Trohvq euo, 

H •rrocaiv vexvserere xomxty^iplvoyaev uva.aaeiv. 

Horn. Odys. Lib. xi. 486—490, 


u Talk not of ruling in this dol’rous gloom, 

te Nor think vain words (he cryM) can ease my doom. 

“ Rather I choose laboriously to bear 
“ A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air, 
u A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread, 
u Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead !’* 

Pope’s Odyss. Book xi. f 595—600, 


Note 4. —Socrates is represented by Plato as thus expressing 
his expectations of a legislator qualified to reveal the mind of Deity 


NOTES. 


39 


to the human race: “ that it is necessary to wait till such a personage 
“ shall appear to teach them how they ought to conduct themselves, 
u both towards God, and towards man.” He goes on to exclaim 
with fervour— f* O when shall that period arrive ! And who shall be 
“ that teacher ? How ardently do I desire to see this man, who he is! 
U A vocyxccTov av Ecrlt u.ivi\v tuq av nq j ux9t] uq S's? 7J"goq Qttiq xx'i 
il Trpoq AvSgu?raq hoc>is7§oci. TIote av Trocpercti o Xgovoq a roq ; Kan 
ii T \q 0 7TCCl$EV<TUV V^icflcc yug OCV fJ.01 $0XU> TaTOV TOV CtvBgUTTOV Tiq 

i( lr» v.” Alcibiad, II. de Precat. 

In reference to the same personage he says, that this Legislator 
must be of higher than human extraction: for that as beasts are go¬ 
verned by men, must man be guided by a nature superior to his 
iQwn. De Leg. lib. 4. 


D 4 















* 

















* 















































































- 

















4X 


LECTURE II. 

TIIE CREATION. 


GEN I. 1. 


In the beginning God created the heavens and the 

earth. 

Sense, Reason, and Faith, may be considered 
as progressive steps, by which the mind ascends 
to the invisible God. Creation is an object of 
Sense. The light which shines upon my path 
is an emblem of the purity of Deity. The me- 
ridian sun is an image of his uncreated glory, 
who is the centre of every system. Whether I 
gaze upon the heavens, and trace the revolutions 
of orbs which move there: or follow the eccen¬ 
tric comet through it’s protracted sphere, so far 
as it is visible: or examine the insect that flits 
by me, or the blade of grass upon which I tram¬ 
ple : I perceive the operations, and adore the wis¬ 
dom of the Divinity. His voice speaks in the 
thunder-storm; and when his lightning bursts 
from the bosom of the dark cloud, “ my flesh 
“ trembleth for fear of his judgments.” Fanned 
with the breath of the morning, or the gale of 




42 


of the evening: standing in this plain, or on 
that mountain: dwelling on the dry land, or 
floating on the surface of the deep—I am still 
with God. 

Reason takes up the process where Sense fails. 
It deduces inferences respecting invisible things 
from those “ which do appear.” Nature wafts 
the mind to the Creator. From it’s majesty, 
Reason argues his greatness: from its endless 
variety, his bounty; from it’s uses, his wisdom. 
The foundation of the Temple of Knowledge is 
laid deep, wide, and lasting on the face of the 
universe. Reason seizes such materials as sense 
can furnish and carries on the building. But, 
alas, the edifice remains incomplete! The ar¬ 
chitect is skilful; but the materials are scanty. 
Those which are most essential to crown the 
work, lie far from this country beyond the 
grave. In vain imagination lends her assist¬ 
ance, and attempts to explore the land of spi¬ 
rits, where only they are to be found. Bewild¬ 
ered, exhausted, and powerless, the artist sits 
down in silent despair. 

Here Faith takes up the tools which fell from 
the hand of Reason. Revelation ascertains all 
that futurity had concealed; and Faith draws 
her materials from Revelation. The building 
rises, and shall continue to rise, till “ the top- 
44 stone is brought forth with shouting.For 


43 


i( faith is the substance of things hoped for, 
“ the evidence of things not seen.” 

Sense cannot introduce us to the invisible Ma¬ 
jesty of heaven. It can only present us with 
his image. The pure, ethereal light—the blaze 
of a noontide sun—the azure heavens and re¬ 
volving orbs—the mysterious, eccentric comet— 
the insect curiously wrought, and the grass sim- 
ply-elegant—the thunder-storm—the lightning- 
vivid and irresistible—the morning and even¬ 
ing breeze—the verdant plain and the elevated 
mountain—the solid earth, and the rolling seas 
—these all reflect the glory of Deity, all bear 
the impress of his hand, all develope his won¬ 
derful agency—but they are not God himself. 

Reason ascends a little higher; and from the 
volume of nature, through the medium of sense, 
unfolds a little of the divine nature, and a few 
of his perfections. His immensity, his wisdom, 
his liberality, may be inferred from every thing 
which 1 behold: but, alas, lam still at a distance 
from God! What is he to me? What does he 
require? Have I disobeyed the dictates of rea¬ 
son at any time? or neglected to serve him? 
If so, will he pardon sin? and how am I to re¬ 
ceive forgiveness ? Neither reason nor sense 
can answer these enquiries, nor silence the cla¬ 
mours of conscience. 

It is Faith rising on the wing of Revelation 



44 


that introduces me into the heaven of heavens, 
unlocks the mystery, and unfolds the seven- 
sealed book. Here I read the covenant of mer¬ 
cy. Here I receive the promise of pardon. Here 
I learn all that I would know, and anticipate all 
that I shall hereafter enjoy. The pressure of 
the ills of life is lightened; and I “ endure as 
“ seeing him who is invisible.” 

Who can behold the fair structure of the hea¬ 
vens and the earth without feeling a powerful 
desire to understand their origin, and to be ac¬ 
quainted, in some measure at least, with the 
architect who reared them ? Cold is the heart 
which kindles not into devotion, when the skies 
blaze with a thousand lamps; and grovellingthe 
mind, which rises not through the system of 
the Universe to the Great First Cause! Blind 
is that understanding which cannot see, amid 
the vicissitudes of seasons, and the changing 
blessings of the Spring, the Summer, the Au¬ 
tumn, and the Winter, the superintendence of 
a faithful friend, and the bounty of an un¬ 
wearied benefactor! Insensible is that man 
who can look upon this grand machinery, and 
live in the bosom of creation, yet perceive no 
harmony, no order, no loveliness, no design; or 
upon whom they make no impression! Let the 
friend of my choice be one who can relish the 
majesty of nature: who, on the close of the 


45 


day, from the summit of some lofty mountain, 
will watch the rising cloud, and observe the 
evening spread her grey and dusky mantle 
over the features of the landscape, till they 
are lost and extinguished: whose eye is fixed 
with delight on the stars as they break one by 
one through the increasing obscurity; and who 
withdrawing from the world, and penetrating 
the forest, can rejoice with the laughing scenes 
around him, and can relish retirement, nor envy 
the dissipation of life, as he hears it’s noise swell¬ 
ing on the gale of the evening. The Friend of 
God, and the Admirer of nature, is the man 
whom I would choose as my companion, and 
love as my own soul. 

It is not possible for the spirit of man to be 
encircled with the present Deity, without en¬ 
quiring after the fountain of existence. Every 
thing above us, around us, beneath us, — 
lives. Every clod of earth teems with anima¬ 
tion. Every drop of water swarms with animal¬ 
cules ; imperceptible indeed to the naked eye, 
but plainly visible when the organ of vision re¬ 
ceives assistance from art. Probably myriads 
floating in the air which we breathe, are drawn 
into the lungs in the act of respiration. Cu¬ 
riosity must stimulate our enquiries, even if we 
had no other, and no better motives : nor can 
we examine, without emotions of gratitude, 


A system in which every thing ministers eithei* 
to our necessities or to our convenience. 

In truth, men of all ages, and at every pe¬ 
riod of time, have been solicitous to understand 
their own origin and that of things around them. 
Every power of the mind has been exerted, and 
no pains have been spared, in attempting to un¬ 
ravel this mystery. The spirit has been over¬ 
whelmed with extravagant and clashing hypo¬ 
theses : or the man has sat down contented with 
uncertain rumours, and mutilated traditions. 
The stream of his knowledge rose from the pure 
and undefiled fountain of Revelation; but it ga¬ 
thered pollution from the channels through 
which it passed, before he stooped to drink it’s 
defiled wave. The systems formed by Reason, 
and that suggested by Revelation, are each to 
pass in review; and when they are contrasted, 
we hope to prove, that the mosaic ac¬ 
count OF THE CREATION IS THE ONLY RATI¬ 
ONAL ONE WHICH WE HAVE RECEIVED. 

The different hypotheses of men, who either 
had not received Revelation, or who have re¬ 
fused it’s testimony and denied its pretensions, 
may be reduced to one of these two divisions: 
either that the world was the production of 
chance, or that it is eternal. The several opi¬ 
nions of ancient and modern times, appear to 


47 

be neither more nor less, than ramifications or 
modifications of the one or the other of these 
systems. We shall examine them separately. 

T. THAT THE WORLD WAS PRODUCED BY CHANCE. 

When we behold a complicated, yet harmo¬ 
nious and well-constructed machine, we may be 
ignorant of the hand that formed it, but we 
find no difficulty in assigning it a maker. No 
rational man would ever imagine that it was 
the production of chance: and if the idea were 
suggested to him, he would reject it with dis¬ 
dain as an insult to his reason. I gaze with de¬ 
light upon a beautiful landscape-painting; colour 
melts into colour, and shade softens into shade. 
By the artful intermixture of light and of sha¬ 
dow, in some parts it dwindles into perspective; 
in others, it appears raised from the surface. 
Here, the figures seem to project from the can¬ 
vass; and there the distant mountain bound¬ 
ing the horizon, just shews its diminished 
elevation, scarcely distinguishable from the 
azure of the surrounding heavens. So exquisite 
is the combination of the various tints, that the 
instant I see it, I discover in it the hand of a 
master. Who in this assembly gazing upon a 
transparent orrery, to have a correct idea of the 


48 


motions of the earth, and of the heavenly bodies, 
would suffer his imagination to rest for a mo¬ 
ment on the supposition, that the machinery so 
admirably adapted to a certain definitive pur¬ 
pose, was constructed merely by accident, with¬ 
out design, without skill, and without a maker? 
And shall any man attempt to persuade you, 
that the solar system, of which it is but an im¬ 
perfect resemblance, was formed, arranged, and 
regulated by chance? Let me see it produce 
the orrery, before I give it credit for the con¬ 
struction of the system! It is strange that men 
should so easily agree in assigning to inferior 
productions some adequate cause, yet deny it 
to superior operations: that they should with 
such facility discover the agency of man in all 
his works, and yet not discern the hand of God 
in the visible creation. 

Plain sense, independent of laborious investi¬ 
gation, or superior intelligence, uncontaminated 
by corrupt principles, and unbiassed by invete¬ 
rate prejudice, is sufficient to overthrow this ab¬ 
surd system. Let but the man of a common 
understanding look abroad into the economy of 
nature, and give in his evidence. Ask him, 
whether chance placed a boundary to the rest¬ 
less waves, and said “ hitherto shall ye come, 
“ but no further?” or commanded the mountain 
to rise decked with verdure, and break the 


49 


clouds as they passed? or clothed the valley 
with corn, and turned the course of the rivulet 
through it, to water the young plantation ? 
or drew an atmosphere round this globe? or 
bade yonder worlds preserve invariably the same 
orbit, during six thousand years, around the 
same luminary? Propose these questions to a 
mind of a common standard, accustomed to the 
exertion of its own powers, and unacquainted 
with the dispute between Revelation and Scep¬ 
ticism : and it is impossible that they should 
be answered in the affirmative. It would be 
less insane to conclude that the machine were 
self-constructed, and that chance disposed the 
several parts of the painting. 

Those who demand the voice of reason on 
this subject shall be gratified by the testimony 
of a great man, to whom the light of Revela¬ 
tion never appeared. The mind of Cicero was 
too exalted to stoop to so degrading an hypo¬ 
thesis. He asks, “ Can I forbear to wonder 
" that there should ever be a man who could 
4 ‘ persuade himself, that this beautiful and well- 
“ finished world was produced by the fortuitous 
“ floating* together of certain solid and indivi- 
“ sible bodies, necessarily moved by the force 
“ of their own gravity? I cannot imagine why 
“ he, who can thus conclude, should not also 
u think, that if innumerable types (formed of 

E 


50 


u gold or of any other substance, and repre- 
“ senting the letters of the alphabet), were 
c: cast carelessly upon the ground, they would 
“ form the annals of Ennius, so as to be per- 
“ fectly intelligible : but I much doubt whether 
“ chance would be able to produce a single 
f£ verse. IIow then can these men assert, that 
“ atoms without colour*, without any of that 
“ quality which the Greeks call •7T01OT rfloc t, and 
“ without intelligence, floating together at ran- 
“ dom, should by accident form a perfect world; 
“ or rather, an infinity of worlds, some of 
“ which are at every point of time produced* 
“ as others perish? But if this accidental 
“ concourse of atoms can make a world, whv 

J 

“ does it never form a portico, an house, a tem- 
“ pie, a city, which might certainly be effected 
“ with much greater easej?” 

Let us for a few moments select a part of the 
creation of God as a full answer to the absurd 
system under consideration, and as an indis¬ 
putable evidence of infinite skill and of onmi- 


* The Epicureans imagined that colour, heat, and similar quali¬ 
ties, belonged only to compound bodies; and that size and weight 
were the only properties of atoms: or roughness and smoothness* 
resulting from their configuration. 

f riastic. 

f See note 1, at the end of this Lecture. 





potent agency. We are about to turn your 
reflections upon yourselves. Contemplate your 
own body: observe the union of it's several 
parts, and their adaptation to the particular 
purposes for which they were designed. Mark 
the composition and configuration of the whole. 
What grace in movements! what beauty of 
countenance! what endless diversity of feature! 
what incomparable workmanship is perceptible 
in the whole frame! You discover bones, mar¬ 
vellously united, presenting a skeleton of the 
human form : fibres and nerves, fine and delicate 
in the extreme: muscles, possessing incredible 
strength, and singularly disposed: vessels, 
through which the stream of life flows, com¬ 
plicated, and branched into every part of the 
body: a spirit, at an unknown moment, and in 
an unsearchable manner, superadded to give 
impulse to the whole machine. In consequence 
of every volition of the mind, this and the 
other muscle is in motion: but no one can de¬ 
fine the union between matter and spirit: and 
philosophy in vain attempts to lay her finger 
upon the spring which agitates the vibrations 
of ten thousand invisible fibres. The whole 
mass of blood is perpetually circulating through 
every channel, and returning to the heart black 
and improper for the purposes of life, till it has 
undergone an instantaneous chemical change, 

e 2 


52 


which is effected in the lungs by the air, and it 
flows on purified to pursue it’s unwearied course. 
If the air inhaled be unsuitable to perform this 
process, and unable to effect this change, im¬ 
mediate death is the inevitable consequence. 
Air, which has lost it’s elasticity in mines and 
similar places, or which is impregnated with 
mortal particles, has this sudden and awful in¬ 
fluence upon the human frame. Who, with the 
smallest pretensions to reason, can affirm or be* 
lieve, that such complex machinery is the pro¬ 
duction of chance? Galen, a celebrated heathen, 
was converted from atheism by contemplating 
an human skeleton, persuaded that workman¬ 
ship so exquisite, and design so manifest, de¬ 
monstrated the existence of a Creator. Yet is 
this human frame but a very small part of the 
divine agency. The same skill is visible in 
every, the meanest, insect, submitted to our 
inspection. 

The Egyptians maintained the irrational sys¬ 
tem under consideration; and one should ima¬ 
gine that a more complete refutation could not- 
be made, than their own statement of it. Dio¬ 
dorus Siculus has preserved it, and we submit it 
to your examination. 

“ At the commencement of all tilings, the 
“ elements of the heavens and the earth were 
“ blended, and they wore an uniform appear- 


53 


w ance. But afterwards these parts separated 
“ from each other, the world assumed the shape 
f< which we now behold, and the air received 

* it’s perpetual motion. The fire ascended 
“ highest, because the lightness of it’s nature 
f{ impelled it upwards; and for the same reason 
<c the sun and the stars move in an invariable 
ft circle. But that part which was gross and 
“ muddy, as also the fluid, sank down into one 

place, by the force of gravity. These ele- 
fi ments perpetually floating and rolling to- 
fi gether, from their moisture produced the sea, 
#e while from their more solid particles sprang 
“ the earth, as yet extremely soft and miry. 
H But in proportion as the light of the sun be- 

* gan to shine upon it, it became solid; and 
w the surface of it, fermented by the warmth 
“ extracting it's moisture, swelled, and exuded 
* { putrescences, covered over with a kind of 

thin skins, such as may still be observed in 

* marshy or boggy places, when, the earth 
“ havinsr been cool, the air is heated suddenly, 
“ and not by a gradual change. These pu- 
46 trescences, formed after this manner from the 
#< moisture of the earth extracted by the. 
46 warmth, by night were nourished from the 
£( clouds spread all around, and in the day 
■ 4 were consolidated by the heat. At length, 
i( when these embryos were arrived at their 

e 3 


54 


“ perfect growth, and the membranes by which 
u they were enclosed were broken by the 
<c warmth, all sorts of living creatures instant- 
“ 1 y appeared. Those that had a larger pro- 

portion of heat in their natures, became birds 
u and soared on nigh. Those that were of a 
“ gross and terrestrial kind, became reptiles and 
u animals confined to the ground. While those 
a who drew the most of their qualities from. 
u moisture, were gathered into an element cor- 
i£ responding with their natures, and became 
“ fish*.” 

It is scarcely possible to conceive of any thing 
more confused, inexplicable, and unphilosophi- 
cal, than this hypothesis. Yet even in this ac¬ 
count, deformed as it is by alterations, dis¬ 
guised by absurdity, and clouded with ob¬ 
scurity, something of the Mosaic system may 
be traced, which renders it probable that it 
might originally have sprang from his repre¬ 
sentation of chaos. There is this essential dif¬ 
ference : he makes order and beauty to arise out 
of confusion and deformity under the forming, 
superintending hand of Deity: they ascribe it 
all to the agency of chance. When I speak of 
the Mosaic hypothesis, I would be understood 


* See note 2, at the end of this Lecture. 





55 


to prefix liis name to the scriptural system, only 
because he committed to writing the tradition 
of the generations which preceded him up to 
the birth of time, and not to insinuate that he 
was the inventor of the account contained in 
the first chapter of Genesis. 

On the present occasion, and in the discus¬ 
sion of the present subject, I trust that it will 
be deemed sufficient if I merely mention a 
more modern hypothesis. It remained for the 
philosophers of the eighteenth century to dis¬ 
cover that the earth and the other planets were 
originally parts of the sun, struck off from that 
immense body by the concussion of comets, and 
whirled into infinite space, by the rapidity of 
their motion acquiring their spherical form, and 
assuming their present appearance. It may be 
thought that this account of the creation 
evinces the fertility of their imaginations ,* but 
it may also be questioned whether it will 
place the laurel upon their heads, as accurate 
reasoners, or as illumined and sound philoso¬ 
phers. Yet these are the men who arrogate to 
themselves the sole claim to reason, and who 
condemn as superstitious and irrational, all, 
who, rejecting their crude and extravagant 
systems, adhere to the plain, concise, and lumi¬ 
nous account, transmitted to us by Moses, 

k 4 


56 


But it is time that we should pass on to the 
consideration of the remaining hypothesis, viz. 

II. THAT THE WORLD IS ETERNAL. 

Many celebrated names among the ancients 
supported this opinion; of whom were Ocellus 
Lucanus, Aristotle, the later Platonists, and 
Xenophanes, the founder of a sect called the 
Eleatic. Plato himself acknowledged that the 
world was created by the hand of God. It was 
moreover supported by many modern philoso¬ 
phers; among whom we may number Spinoza, 
Amalric, and Abelard ; not to name those of 
our own day, some of whom hold the eternity 
of the world in it's full sense; and others as¬ 
sign to it an antiquity much more remote than 
the scriptural account will allow. The heathen 
poets at large countenanced the former opinion, 
which proves that the popular sentiment of the 
Pagan world was, that what we deem creation, 
sprang from a chaos of which they appear to 
have no correct notion, under the influence of 
mere chance*. 

There are several modifications of the hypo¬ 
thesis of the world's eternity: but we feel it 


* See note 3, at the end of this Lecture. 





57 


our duty to assign the reasons which appear to 
us to overthrow it, rather than to state the 
several senses in which it was held. 

1. A valuable writer* has laid it down as an 
axiom, that if any thing be eternal, it is also 
self-existent and immutable. For a being is the 
same with all its properties taken together. We 
can have “ no conception of any substance dis- 
f( tinct from all the properties in which they 
<£ inhere.” On this principle, if any property 
be removed or destroyed, a part of that being 
would necessarily perish; which is inconsistent 
with its being necessary, and subverts its 
eternity as a whole. It cannot be said, that it 
is impossible for alterations to be made on the 
face of this globe, when it's several parts are 
incessantly changing; and the inference, allow¬ 
ing this fact, is against it’s eternity. 

2. The same ingenious author has collected 
and enumerated at lengthf, several philosophical 
and astronomical objections against this system. 
These have been urged by various writers ; and 
we shall be satisfied with simply naming them. 
They are founded upon those immutable laws 


* Doddridge's Lectures, xxiv. Part II. page 47. Demonstration 
--connected with the preceding chain of propositions. 

t See Doddridge’s Lectures, Part II. page 47—50. Quarto 
-edition. 






58 


of nature by which the several parts of this 
grand system act in unison, so far as they have 
been discovered, and are comprehensible to us, 
and which are acknowledged by the world at 
large. They are to this effect: That the pro¬ 
jectile force of the planets is continually dimi¬ 
nishing; therefore, had the present system of 
things been eternally the same, they would 
long since have faiien into the sun. That the 
sun itself is continually losing some of it's light, 
however small the proportion may be; and of 
course must have been utterly extinguished. 
That as the sun and the fixed stars are supposed 
to attract each other, they must, ere this, have 
met in the centre of gravity common to the 
whole universe. That as many substances are 
constantly petrifying and ossifying, the whole 
earth must have undergone the same change. 
And that as hills are continually subsiding, the 
surface of the whole globe must, ages ago, have 
been reduced to a level: for if it be urged that 
the numbers of those so subsiding are counter¬ 
balanced by others which we may suppose to 
have been raised by earthquakes and other vio¬ 
lent convulsions, we answer—that the numbers 
so raised must be small compared with those 
reduced: not to say, that mountains raised by 
earthquakes are for the most part hollow, and 
are therefore naturally more disposed to sub- 


side and fall in. This hypothesis supposes that 
all mountains with which we are now acquaint¬ 
ed, are the effects of earthquakes, (admitting 
that the original ones, through the effects of 
time, had been levelled, which would doubtless 
have been the case had the world been eternal); 
a supposition so absurd, that we need only ap¬ 
peal to such mountains as the Alps, the Peak 
of Teneriffe, and others, to overthrow it. Many 
others have been proposed, but we cheerfully 
leave these hypothetical speculations to the 
learned and the curious, the philosopher and 
the naturalist, and pass on to other considera¬ 
tions which we deem more important and more 
satisfactory. 

3 . We have no credible history of transac¬ 
tions more remote than six thousand years from 
the present time. The Chinese, the Egyptians, 
the Chaldeans, and the Phenicians, have all laid 
claim to much higher antiquity ; but in bring¬ 
ing these pretensions to the test, it is clearly 
manifest that they do not deserve the credit 
which they demand Their chronology is so 
absurdly extended, as to exceed the bounds of 
probability, and to excite suspicion in respect 
of the facts themselves, which are the subjects 
of their calculations. It has been stated, and 
rendered probable by the learned writers of the , 
Universal History, in their account of the Tar- 


60 


tars and the Chinese, that a great part of China 
was very thinly peopled so late as the year be¬ 
fore Christ six hundred and thirty-seven, when 
the Scythians, under the conduct of Madyes, 
made an irruption into Upper Asia. We have 
a singular fact to state, which will prove that 
their boasted antiquity really falls within the 
limits of the Mosaic chronolocrv. For the evi- 
deuce which we are about to produce, we are 
indebted to the discoveries of modern astrono¬ 
my. The Chinese have ever made a point of 
inserting in their calendars remarkable eclipses, 
or conjunctions of the planets, together with 
the name of that emperor in whose reign they 
were observed. To these events they have also 
affixed their awn dates . There is a very singular 
conjunction of the sun, moon, and several 
planets, recorded in their annals as having 
taken place almost at the very commencement 
of their remote history. The far-famed Cassini, 
to ascertain the fact, calculated back, and de¬ 
cisively proved, that such an extraordinary con¬ 
junction actually did take place at China, on 
February the twenty-sixth, two thousand and 
twelve years before Christ. This falls four 
hundred years after the flood, and a little after 
the birth of Abraham* *. Here are two import- 

. - • - • - • — ~~ • ■ ^ 

* May I be permitted to recommend a small and well-composed 
treatise, called u The Christian Officer's Panoply, y> written by an ex,- - 






ant facts ascertained. The one is, that the Chi¬ 
nese are an ancient nation, although perhaps not 
at that time a very large one; and the other, 
that their pretensions to antiquity beyond that 
of Moses are unfounded : because this event, 
which they themselves represent as happening 
near the beginning of their immense calcula¬ 
tions, falls far within the history and chronology 
of the scriptures. 

The Egyptians pretended in like manner to 
possess an exact narration for some myriads of 
years. Their inaccuracy is demonstrable from 
a plain matter of fact. They professed to pre¬ 
serve the records of other ancient nations as 
well as of their own; and their evident fallacy 
in relation to other empires, marks the depen- 
dance which we ought to place in their history 
respecting themselves; and proves that we 
should receive their calculations with great 
caution, and under considerable limitations. 
When Alexander entered with his victorious 


cellent officer in the marines now living, and personally known 
me ? It is published by Matthews. This singular fact is recorded 
in this little volume, w'hich is the best compendium of evidences in 
favour of the Bible, and the most familiar I have ever seen. The 
style of writing adopted is at once entertaining and instructive; and 
I never received more of pleasure and of satisfaction, from any book 
which I ever perused. 




62 


army into Egypt, the priests professed to shew 
him out of their sacred annals an account of the 
Macedonian and Persian empires through a pe¬ 
riod of eight thousand years: while it appears 
from the best historical accounts, that the Per¬ 
sian empire was not then three hundred years 
old: nor had the Macedonian been founded 
quite five centuries. In order to establish their 
chronology, they make their first kings, on 
. their own calculations, reign above twelve 
hundred years each; and for the same reason 
the Assyrians make their monarchs reign above 
forty thousand years. We might adduce a 
variety of similar instances of unbounded 
licence in the pretensions of the Chaldeans, 
Phenicians, and some other nations. But it is 
unnecessary to pursue the inquiry farther. Such 
extravagance defeats it’s own purposes; since 
no dependance can be placed upon calculations 
so chimerical*. 

4. We are able to ascertain the periods when 
the most useful arts and sciences were invented; 
which could not be done with certainty, had 
the world been eternal, because many of them 
would have been involved and buried in the 


* See Pearson on the Creed: page 58—60. Folio edition of 1669. 
Consult also Stillingfleet’s Origines Sacrae, 





6S 


mist of extreme antiquity. Mark the progress 
of science. Observe how soon it arrives at the 
perfection of which it is capable ! What eluci¬ 
dation the revolution of a few ages throws upon 
theories previously obscure! In the lapse of 
comparatively a very few years, the hand of 
time uncovers a fund of knowledge, which was 
veiled in perplexity and uncertainty. How 
many useful arts are invented, and how many 
interesting discoveries are made in the course of 
a single century! Calculate upon the most 
tardy progress of the arts imaginable, and de¬ 
termine whether those of which we are now in 
possession are at all equal to that which we 
might reasonably expect, if the world had been 
eternal, and if human genius and industry had 
been gradually, however slowly, penetrating 
the darkness, and dispersing the cloud of igno¬ 
rance? If it be urged that floods and fires, and 
wars, with ten thousand nameless hypothetical 
desolations, may have destroyed a multitude of 
useful inventions; we answer, that the number 
of these must have been prodigious indeed, and 
absolutely inconceivable, to produce a devas¬ 
tation of the arts which should be able to 
counterbalance the inventions of science, which, 
on the supposition of the world’s eternity, might 
be expected. Nor could we with such facility 
determine the periods when these useful arts 


64 


were discovered, if the chronology of the world 
really extended far beyond the Mosaic history. 
Admit that the world were twenty thousand 

4 / 

years old: we should necessarily be in uncer¬ 
tainty with regard to the rise of the most sim¬ 
ple and useful inventions, because of their ex¬ 
treme antiquity. The fact, on the contrary, is 
simply this: that the necessaries and conve¬ 
niences of life, civilization and commerce, the 
inventions of the arts and sciences, the letters 
which we use, the language which we speak, 
have all known originals, may all be traced 
back to their first authors, and these all fall far 
within the circle of six thousand years, while 

4 / ' 

none are found to exceed it—no, not one. 

5. In the same manner we are able to trace 
the origin of different nations ; which we could 
not do with certainty had the world been eter¬ 
nal. We can look back to the beginning of the 
greatest empires of the present day; and we 
can also mark the rise, the meridian splendour, 
and the decline of those which preceded them, 
till we arrive at a certain point beyond which 
we know nothing; and this point extends to 
about the standard assigned in the Mosaic ac¬ 
count of the creation. Should earthquakes 
and floods be again pleaded as having destroyed 
nations as well as sciences, and thus reduced 
the world to a second infancy—if any had re- 


65 


mained, we might naturally conclude that the 
most useful arts had been preserved, and that 
some wrecks of mighty nations would have 
survived the desolation, at least, to tell the tale 
of woe to succeeding generations. But a system 
begins to be in danger, when those who main¬ 
tain it are reduced to the necessity of suppos¬ 
ing things which might, or might not, happen— 
where probabilities are against them—and when, 
if their arguments are admitted, the slender 
causes they assign, are in themselves inadequate 
to the production of effects so extensive as they 
wish to establish. 

6. It may be necessary to notice a modern 
objection which has been urged against the 
Mosaic chronology; and which is designed to 
prove, that if the world be not eternal, it may 
still claim a much higher antiquity than is 
allowed in the Bible. It is in substance as fol¬ 
lows* : 

“ In pits or openings of the ground in the 
neighbourhood of Vesuvius and iEtna, beds of 
lava have been discovered at considerable depths 

* These objections to the Mosaic chronology are stated and refuted 
very much at large in the Encyclopaedia Britannica, article Earth. 
To the writer of this article I am indebted for the statement given 
above ; and for the most part I have adhered to his language as best 
conveying his thoughts upon the subject. 

F 





66 


below each other; and these in some places 
are covered with successive strata of vegetable 
mould. These different strata have proceeded, 
it is said, from an equal number of irruptions 
from the mountain. Ten or twelve successive 
strata, overlaid with soil, have been discovered 
in the bowels of the earth; and it is strongly 
asserted, that, by digging deeper, many more 
might be found. It is assumed that a thousand 
years at least are necessary to the production of 
a soil sufficient for the nourishment and growth 
of vegetables upon these volcanic lavas. If this 
be granted, and twelve such strata have been 
discovered, the antiquity of the earth is imme¬ 
diately swelled to, at least, twelve thousand 
years: which is more than double the Mosaic 
chronology. This, then, is the point upon 

which the whole controversy turns : and the 

%/ * 

answers that have been given to this objection 
may be laid down in the following order: 

]. It is granted, by those who have written 
upon this subject, that some lavas are very solid, 
and others much less so. The one, of course, 
resists the operations of time much longer than 
the other. This also is admitted. 

2. They have not determined of which sort 
the lavas in question are, which is a material 
enquiry: since, if a thousand years were re- 


67 

quired for the more solid, a much less time 
would be necessary for the farinaceous. 

3. Soil gradually increases by decayed vege¬ 
tables, and the sediments of snows and rain: the 
thickness or thinness of the soil must therefore 
determine whether a greater or less time has 
been employed in the accumulation: but these 
writers have not informed us of the dimensions 
of these subterraneous vegetable strata—another 
material circumstance in the calculation. 

4. Volcanic ashes and muddy water are some¬ 
times thrown out, designed, as it should seem, 
by nature to repair the sterility occasioned by 
the lava; and these ought to be taken into the 
account, as materially assisting quickness of 
vegetative soil. 

5. They have, however, furnished us with 
the following fact. The town of Herculaneum 
was destroyed by an irruption in the ninety- 
seventh year of the Christian era. ‘ There are 
‘ evident marks, that the matter of six irrup- 
‘ tions,’ say they, ‘ has taken its course over 
c Herculaneum ; for each of the six strata of 
‘ lava is covered with a vein of good soil.’ Here 
then, we have their own authority for six strata 
of good soil accumulated in less than seventeen 
hundred years : which, supposing them of equal 
thickness, instead of a thousand years, leaves 

F 2 



68 

us not three hundred for the production of 
each.” 

At best, then, this objection is hypothetical 
merely; and upon the testimony of the objec¬ 
tors, a thousand years are not only unneces¬ 
sary to the production of such strata, but six 
of them have actually been formed in less 
than seventeen hundred years; or less than 
three hundred for each: and we therefore see 
no solid reason to induce us to sacrifice the 
chronology of Moses, to the uncertain doctrine 
of vegetable strata. 

We produce only one other consideration 
against the opinion of the world’s eternity ; and 
that appears to us of very great importance: 

7. If the world is eternal, how has the 
tradition of it’s beginning every where prevailed, 
although under different forms, among nations 
both barbarous and civilized? We leave the 
sceptic who disputes the Mosaic history, and 
the philosopher who asserts the eternity of the 
world, to answer this enquiry—it is not our 
business. The fact cannot be denied. Not 
only is it to be found among the refined na¬ 
tions of antiquity, but barbarians who then 
chased, and savages who still pursue, the wild 
and brute inhabitants of their own inaccessible 
forests, had, and yet have, some tradition of 
the creation of all things. It is not merely in 


69 

England’s metropolis, that infidelity is encoun¬ 
tered with the history of the beginning of the 
world ; traditions of it are to be met with on 
the plains of Indostan, on the banks of tbe 
Ganges, and among every tribe and every na¬ 
tion, from the line of the equator to the circles 
of both the poles. It forms a part of every 
religion in the known world. Every country, 
although, perhaps, claiming an antiquity higher 
than we allow, and supposing the world to 
have been produced by chance, does neverthe¬ 
less admit that it had a beginning. This was 
the universal doctrine of the heathen world; 
excepting that some of their philosophers, from 
the love of novelty, or the pride of distinction, 
disavowed the public sentiment. It was the 
common faith of all nations, and remains so. 
We appeal to the Phenician histories, to the 
Indians, and to the Egyptians. We read it in 
Linus, in Hesiod, in Orpheus, in Aratus, in 
Thales, and in a variety of Greek writers too 
large to lay before you ; all of whom embraced 
the idea that the world was created, and not 
eternal. From these, the Romans borrowed 
the same doctrines. Ovid, who closely tran¬ 
scribed these opinions from the Greeks, has 
given a long and eloquent description of the 
formation of the heavens, and the earth, and 

f 3 


70 

it’s several inhabitants* *. We repeat our ques¬ 
tion, how was it possible for the tradition of a 
beginning to the world, to be so universally 
prevalent, and so universally received, through 
every age, if it were indeed eternal ? 

From these representations we now wish to 
deduce a most interesting and important infer¬ 
ence; and to establish a truth which lies at the 
foundation of all religion, natural and re¬ 
vealed— 


THE BEING OF A GOD. 

■ If we have in any respect succeeded in over¬ 
turning the two hypotheses which have now 
passed under review : if the world be not the 
production of chance, and if it be not eternal; 
it follows, that it must have been created—in 
order to which there must have been an infinite 
Architect. We have seen human reason led 
into labyrinths, from which it could not be ex¬ 
tricated but by the friendly assistance of Re¬ 
velation. To the eye of nature, all is obscurity. 
We have received decisive evidences from noto¬ 
rious facts, that when an investigation of these 


JE5-HS? 


* Metara. Lib. 1. See the quotation, note 4, at the end of this 
Lecture. 




71 

subjects has been attempted by men of the first 
talents, independently of this infallible guide, 
the mortifying and inevitable result has been, 
bewildered systems, trembling uncertainty, 
clashing, contradictory theories. “ There is a 
“ path which no fowl knoweth, and which 
“ the vulture’s eye hath not seen : the lion’s 
u whelps have not trodden it, nor hath the 
“ fierce lion passed by it.” These secret paths 
are the operations of God, sought out by those 
who love him, and discovered only by the di¬ 
rection of his word, and the agency of his spirit. 
Admit the being of a God, and all is clear and 
luminous. Every difficulty vanishes: for what 
cannot Omnipotence perform? “ The fool hath 
“ said in his heart, there is no God.” Can he 
deserve a milder name who holds his irrational 
creed ? All nature proclaims his existence; 
and every feeling of the heart is responsive to 
it’s voice. The instant we begin to breathe, 
our connection with God is commenced, and 
it is a connection which cannot be dissolved for 
ever. All other unions are formed for a season 
only : time will waste them: death will destroy 
them: but this connection looks death in the 
face, defies the injuries of time, and is commen¬ 
surate with the ages of eternity. The moment 
we are capable of distinguishing between good 
and evil, our responsibility to God is begun—it 

f 4 


7°2 


commences with the dawn of reason, it looks 
forward to the judgment seat as it’s issue. At 
every period, and under every circumstance of 
human life, man still draws his existence from 
the “ Fountain of life he may be cut olf from 
society, but cannot be separated from God : he 
may renounce his fellow men, but never can 
burst the bonds of obligation by which he is 
held to his Maker, till he shall have acquired 
the power to extinguish that immaterial prin¬ 
ciple within him, which can never be subjected 
to decay or to dissolution. The last sigh which 
rends the bursting heart, terminates the corre¬ 
spondence between man and man; but strength¬ 
ens the union between God and man. All the 
springs of enjoyment and of existence, are hid¬ 
den in the Deity, and the fates of the human 
lace are suspended in the balances sustained 
by his unshaken arm. It is an object of the 
first magnitude, to learn something of the Being, 
with whom we stand thus intimately and inse¬ 
parably connected : who is light and warmth 
in the sun, softness in the breeze, power in the 
tempest, and the principle which pervades and 
animates, which regulates and sustains univer¬ 
sal nature: but to deny his existence, is the 
madness of desperation, and the temerity of 
presumption : of all insanity, it is the worst; 
and of all ingratitude, it is the deepest. I see 


73 

liim rolling the planets in their orbits, controul- 
ing the furious elements, and stretching an 
irresistible sceptre over all things created. I see 
the globe suspended, and trembling in his pre¬ 
sence; and the kingdoms of this world, ab¬ 
sorbed in his empire, rising to distinction, or 
falling into irrecoverable desolation, according 
to the counsel of his will. My heart is not at 
ease. I am instructed, but not tranquillized. 
The infinity of God overwhelms me : his ma¬ 
jesty swallows me up: his inflexible justice 
and purity fill me with dismay: his power 
makes me afraid. It is this volume which first 
brings me acquainted with him as God, and 
afterwards as a friend : which represents him at 
once the Creator and Redeemer of the human 
race; and while his attributes command my 
admiration, his mercy forbids my terror. 

THE MOSAIC ACCOUNT OF THE CREATION 

remains to be briefly examined. He conducts 
us at once to this great Architect: “ In the 
“ beojnnino- God created the heavens and the 
“ earth.” He represents the earth, after it’s 
creation, as a dark fluid, and an unformed 
chaos, or mass of matter, which in six days 
God reduced to order, and disposed in its pre¬ 
sent form. “ And the earth was without form, 


74 


“ and void, and darkness was upon the face 
“ of the deep. And the spirit of God moved 
<( upon the face of the waters.” A modern 
critic* has translated this passage, “ a vehement 
“ wind oversweeping the surface of the waters.” 
He founds his criticism upon the circumstance 
that the Hebrew language calls “ thunder the 
“ voice of God ; a great wind, his breath ; the 
“ clouds his habitation, his chariot; the light- 
“ nings and winds his ministers and messen- 
“ gers, &c.” and the possibility of rendering 
the words nn either the spirit of God, or 

the wind of God, which he translates, a mighty 
wind. He produces various quotations from the 
scriptures, in which nn must be rendered wind, 
and accumulates much criticism to prove that 
this is the primary sense of the original word, 
and of the terms usually employed in translat¬ 
ing it. An equal number of passages might 
easily be extracted from the sacred writers, in 
which nn would bear no other translation than 
spirit. Neither is it quite clear that nn signi¬ 
fies spirit only in a secondary and metaphorical 
sense: since by their arrangement of explana¬ 
tory terms, lexicographers seem divided upon 


* Dr, Geddes. 




75 

the subjectf. Respecting there can be 

but one opinion ; and while our translators have 
preserved the literal rendering of the words, the 
translation proposed is confessedly justified only 
on it’s resemblance to some Hebrew phrases, the 
correspondence of which may or may not be 
admitted. This premised, I object further to the 
rendering “ a vehement wind,” because a very 
beautiful idea suggested by the literal reading 
of the words is lost in that, adopted by this 
critic : an idea which is so well expressed by 
our in mitable poetj, who was himself well- 
versed in the original language of the sacred 
scriptures ; and who in his beautiful address to 
the Holy Spirit, says, 

“ Thou from the first 

“ Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread, 

11 Dove-like, satst brooding on the vast abyss, 

“ And madst it pregnant 

But it was impossible to maintain the simple 
translation, without admitting a doctrine, which 
this critic could not reconcile with the religious 


f Parkhurst gives, as it’s primary sense, air in motion; which cor¬ 
responds with Dr. Geddes’ opinion : yet in his translation of Gen. I. 
2, Parkhurst renders the words “ the spirit of the Aleim Stockius 
gives, as the primary sense, spiritus, then ventus, &c. How little can 
be inferred from verbal criticism! 

t Milton. 




76 

principles which he had adopted, the personality 
of the Holy Spirit*; and he therefore substituted 
one which did not clash with his sentiments: 
and on the same principle I prefer the common 
reading of our Bibles, because it accords with 
a system which appears to me both rational and 
scriptural, and which does include the person¬ 
ality of this divine agent; and because the 
words are by our translators literally rendered. 

The first thing which appeared was light; the 
separation of which from darkness, was the 
work of the first day. “ And God said, Let 
“ there be light; and there was light.” A more 
simple and more literal translation is, “ Be 
“ light; and light was.” This very passage, in 
it’s connection, has been marked by the elegant 
Longinus, as a specimen of the true sublime 
Nor did it escape the observation of the 
psalmist, who has well expressed it—“ He spake, 
“ and it was done: he commanded, and it stood 
“ fast.” 


* Dr. Geddes has said, “ those who have found in this passage 
“ the person of the Holy Ghost, have been very little versed in the 
tl language of the East; and paid very little attention to the con- 
“ struction of the text.” So easy is it to deal in bold and unqualified 
assertions, and call them critical remarks. Surely he forgot that 
Milton was an Hebrew scholar of no common standard. 

t See note 5, at the end of this Lecture, 





77 

On the second day , God made an expansion: 
for so the Hebrew word which our transla¬ 
tors have rendered “ firmament,” implies. It 
is derived from a root which signifies “ out- 
“ stretching,” and corresponds with that beau¬ 
tiful passage in Isaiah xl. 22. “ It is he that 

“ stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, and 
“ spreadeth them out as a tent to dwell in.” It 
is the atmosphere which surrounds our globe, 
and which possesses density sufficient to sustain 
the waters above it. It’s design, said Moses, 
is, “ to divide the waters that are above this 
“ firmament”—or atmosphere, “ from the wa- 
“ ters that are under this expansion.” This 
atmosphere is perpetually drawing up particles 
of water, till they accumulate, and become too 
heavy for the air to sustain them, and fall in 
showers of rain. 

On the third day , the earth was drained, and 
the waters which before triumphed over it’s sur¬ 
face, were gathered into one grand receptacle. 
The land appeared, dry and fit for vegetation— 
received the name “ Earth’—and produced, at 
the divine command, herbs, plants, trees, and 
all the endless varieties of the vegetable world, 
bearing their several seeds and fruits, according 
to their different kinds. The congregated wa¬ 
ters he called “ seas and drawing boundaries 
around them, he said, “ Hitherto shall ye come. 





78 

/ 

“ but no farther; and here shall your proud 
“ waves be stayed.” 

On the fourth day , the sun and moon were 
formed, and placed in the heavens to illuminate 
the earth, to distinguish between day and 
night; to divide, and to rule the revolving 
seasons of the year. “ lie made the stars also.” 

On the Jifth day , were created fishes, and 
the swarming, multiform inhabitants of the 
hoary deep, the fowls of heaven, and what¬ 
soever flieth in the expansion above us: these 
all, were produced from the waters. 

On the sixth day , were formed all terrestrial 
animals. Then also man, his last, best work, 
was “ fashioned” from the “ dust of the earth,” 
and animated with “ a living soul.” Of man he 
formed the woman, “ to be an help meet for 
“ him.” 

“ Thus the heavens and the earth were finish- 
“ ed, and all the host of them.” And “ God 
“ rested from his work, and blessed the seventh 
“ day, and sanctified it,” as a sabbath to the 
man and to his posterity. 

Such is the Mosaic account of the creation, 
leading us up to God as the Creator and Dis¬ 
poser of all things; affording, beyond contro¬ 
versy, the most rational of the h> potheses pre¬ 
sented to you; and while it has left the way 
open for philosophic enquiries, it has not said 


79 

any tiling to gratify vain curiosity. We will 
attend to some few questions which have been 
often suggested from this representation of the 
beginning of all things, and conclude this Lec¬ 
ture, which has already been drawn out to a 
great length. 

1. What was the light that made it’s appear¬ 
ance before the creation of the sun? In con¬ 
sidering this question, which cannot be solved, 
and which is a matter of opinion altogether, 
various conjectures have been formed. Some 
have called it elemental fire. Some have sup¬ 
posed that it resembled the shekinah. A similar 
representation of it is made by our immortal 
bard : 

“ ‘ Let there be light/ said God, and forthwith light 
u Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure, 

“ Sprung from the deep, and from her native east 
u To journey through the airy gloom began, 
if Spher’d in a radiant cloud, for yet the sun 
“ Was not; she in a cloudy tabernacle 
“ Sojourn’d the while*." 

The critic, to whom we have before referred, 
supposes it to have been “ an emanation of the 
“ same sun that still enlightens us ; and which, 
“ although it had not yet appeared in it’s full 


* Par. Lost, Book VII. 1. 243—249. 




80 


“ glory, yet shed sufficient light through the 
“ dense atmosphere, to make the surface of 
“ the terraqueous globe visiblef.” But as I 
feel inclined to give implicit credit to the Mo¬ 
saic account, in it's literal signification, which 
affirms that the sun and moon were made on the 
fourth day, and that “ God commanded the 
“ light to shine out of darkness” on the first, 
I should rather imagine it to be the same par¬ 
ticles of light diffused, which were afterwards 
collected into one body—the sunj. But of these 
various opinions the reader will judge for him¬ 
self. 

2. Does the Mosaic account oppose the pre¬ 
sent system of astronomy ? 

The language of the scriptures expresses 
simply the appearance of things, and neither 
sanctions nor opposes any system of philosophy. 
It has left the road of knowledge and research 
perfectly open ; and neither forbids, nor adopts, 
the hypotheses of those who have explored the 


f Dr. Geddes’ Crit. Rem. on Gen. C. I. ver. 3, vol. I. p. 14 j 
quarto. 

J I do not profess to offer this hypothesis as clear of objection and 
difficulty; but it is the best which occurs to me, and is allowable 
where every thing must be merely hypothetical. I am happy to hear 
that this thought corresponds with one suggested in Mr. Fuller’s com¬ 
mentary on Genesis, just published; which, however, I have not yet 
had an opportunity of consulting. 





81 

heavens, and with laborious and useful skill, 
developed the laws by which the great system, 
of which this globe constitutes a part, seems to 
be regulated. When in common language we 
say—“ the sun rises, and sets"—we do not 
mean to oppose the Newtonian, or any other 
astronomical system, but merely to express the 
apparent motion of this grand luminary. It is 
the beauty of the scriptures, that their lan¬ 
guage is perfectly conformable to our ideas? 
and therefore on most subjects falls within the 
grasp of our comprehension. And we ought to 
recollect that the design of this volume is not 
to develope the laws of nature, but to lead us 
along the narrow path which conducts to 

heaven; not to guide our feet through the 
orbits of planets, but to direct them to the 
throne of the invisible God. 

3. Does the Mosaic account of the creation 
extend to the universe at large ? This is an 
enquiry which cannot be decided. Some have 
concluded that the earth, the sun, and the 
moon, only belong to this history. Others 
restrict it to the solar system. Others extend 
it to the wide universe. The circumstances of 
the creation, as related by Moses, apply prin¬ 
cipally to the globe which we inhabit. The sun 
and the moon are mentioned as formed at the 
same period, and are evidently included in the 


G 


82 

account, because of their connection with,, and 
advantage to the earth. But the phrase, “ He 
“ made the stars also 1 '—seems to advert to the 
great universe; and may lead us to presume,, 
that the creation of all things was effected at 
one and the same time. 

4. In what sense are we to understand the 
term “ six days"—as literal, or as allegorical? 
A critic*, whom we have had occasion to men¬ 
tion more than once, boldly pronounces it “ a 
beautiful mythos,. or philosophical fiction.'’— 
Some of the ancient Christian Fathers esteemed 
it allegorical. I confess, however, that my 
reverence for this volume, makes me very re¬ 
luctant to resolve into allegory , any thing which 
wears the appearance of a fact on it’s pages * 
much more so, to venture to call it a fable. The 
following reasons determine me in concluding, 
that Moses designed it as a statement of -facts, 
and that we ought to understand the phrase, 

“ six days,” in it’s literal sense : 

The seventh day was instituted as a Sabbath, 
that in it the man might rest from his labour, 
and more immediately serve his gracious Creator; 
and the reason, the only reason, assigned for it 
in the promulgation of the law was, that “ in 


* Dr. Geddes. 






83 


“ six days the Lord made heaven and earth 5 
“ the sea, and all that in them is ; wherefore 
“ the Lord blessed the seventh day, and hal- 
“ lowed it.” 

This is the reason always produced, when 
the institution of the Sabbath is at all named; 
and in consequence of it, the seventh day was 
observed, till the resurrection of Christ on the 
first day of the week: when, in perpetual re¬ 
membrance of this great and glorious event, the 
first day became the Christian sabbath, and the 
seventh was laid aside. 

The apostle who wrote to the Hebrews, quotes 
this passage from Genesis, in the second chap¬ 
ter, and at the fourth verse, of his epistle :— 
“ And God did rest the seventh day from all 
“ his works.” In his reasoning upon this pas¬ 
sage, he makes no one remark, which disco¬ 
vers the least approximation to an allegorical 
interpretation ; much less did he seem to regard 
it as “a beautiful mythos on the contrary, 
every thing which he says throughout that 
chapter, appears to ascertain very clearly, that 
he understood the phrase, “ six days,” used by 
Moses, in it’s literal sense. 

5. Can any reason be assigned for the num¬ 
ber of days fixed upon, and occupied in this 
great work? Certainly not. We dare not at¬ 
tempt to fathom the divine designs; nor is the 

g 2 


84 


Deity to be judged at a human tribunal. Per¬ 
haps (for what can be offered but conjecture?) 
he carried on his work in progression, and chose 
six days for the performance of that, which he 
could have effected, had he been so disposed, 
in an instant, to shew that he is a “ God of 
“ order and not of confusion.” It is thus also, 
that he works in providence, and in grace. 
Iiis plans are gradually developed; his wisdom 
gradually manifested; his will gradually accom¬ 
plished; his designs gradually completed. And 
possibly he chose only six days, to demonstrate 
his unbounded power, that could perform so 
immense a work, in so short a space of time. 

6. How could Moses be litted to give an ac¬ 
count of the creation? There can be no difficulty 
in answering this question, if it be allowed that 
he was divinely inspired: but we may account 
for his ability to record the circumstances of the 
creation in a way which will be more satisfac¬ 
tory to the wavering. It is no improbable con¬ 
jecture, that in the earliest ages of the world, 
God communicated his will to pious indivi¬ 
duals, and .permitted them to transmit it to 
others by oral tradition: for in those days the 
longevity of man favoured this mode of con¬ 
veyance. It will be admitted, that Adam could 
hot be ignorant of the circumstances of the 
creation. With Adam, Methuselah lived two 


85 


hundred and forty-three years : with Methuse¬ 
lah, Shem, the son of Noah, lived about ninety- 
seven years; and with Shem, Jacob, the grand¬ 
son of Abraham, lived fifty years, according to 
the chronology of the history of Genesis. On 
this calculation, no more than three persons, 
Methuselah, Shem, and Jacob, were necessary 
to transmit this account, together with the 
knowledge and worship of God, from Adam to 
the time when the children of Israel went down 
into Egypt, through a period of two thousand 
two hundred and thirty-eight years. It is easy 
to conceive how it came into the hand of Moses: 
for his grandfather, Am ram, lived a consider¬ 
able time, both with Joseph, the son of Jacob, 
and with the Jewish lawgiver, the writer of this 
history, himself. When the life of man was 
shortened, and the nations had become corrupt 
through idolatry, oral tradition was no longer 
a safe vehicle of conveyance; and God there¬ 
fore communicated a revelation of his mind and 
will, which was committed to writing. 

In retracing the outline of the preceding Lec¬ 
ture ; and contrasting the scriptural relation of 
the beginning of all things with other hypo¬ 
theses ; I trust, that the proposition, announced 
for elucidation this day, has been established: 
That the Mosaic account of the creation, 

g 3 


8(5 

I 

IS THE ONLY RATIONAL ONE WHICH WE HAVE 
RECEIVED. 

“ Nevertheless we, according to his promise, 
“ look for new heavens and a new earth, wherein 
“ dwelleth righteousness.” 


N O T E S. 



Note 1 . —Hie ego non mirer esse quemquam, qui sibi persuadeat, 
corpora quaedam solida atque individua vi et gravitate ferri, raun- 
■dumque effici ornatissimum, et pulcherrimum ex eorum corporum 
concursione fortuita ? Hoc qui existimat fieri potuisse, non iutelligo, 
cur non idem pulet, si innumerabiles unius et viginti forma; litera- 
rura vel aurea;, vei quales lihet, aliquo conjiciantur, posse ex his in 
terram excussis annales Emhi, ut deinccps legi possint, effici : quod 
nescio an ne in uno quidem versu possit tantum valere fortuna. Isti 
autem quemadmodum asseverant, ex corpusculis non colore, non 
qualitate aliqua, quam noioTrJoc Gra;ci vocant, non sensu prasditis, sed 
concurrentibus temere atque casu, mundum esse perfectuin ? vel in¬ 
numerabiles potius in onmi puncto temporis alios nasci, alios inte- 
rire ? Quod si mundum efficere potest concursus atomorum, cur por- 
ticum, cur templum, cur domum, cur urbern non potest? qute sunt 
minus operosa, et multo quidem faciliora. 

Cic. dc nat. dcor. II. S7. 

Tl-anslated in page 49, of the preceding Lecture. 


* The hypothesis of the Egyptians. Kara yu% tvv 

tuv oXuv cvalxaiv, fjuctv ’lyjuv ofttav s^oovov re y.ou yvv, fxs f/uy ^bvvs ccvtuv 
tvs tyvertus' /a£Ta ol tolvtoc (had\a.vTuv tuv au^coTuv a 7 -’a.'KKvXuv, tov 
,^.\ v y.oc7fjL0.v v unocaotv r vv o^ufAsvvv bv clvtu aCvTot^iv, tov fit 

ui^cc y.ivvcBus tv%Ziv uwey^ag. K oU to (juv nvguoBS ctxPl8 ngos T&S ^~ 
TBU^olooTHS Tonus ffV^UfjLsTv' UVU^B^S TVS T0\UVTVS T ^S 

tvv xvtpoTvJct' u<p vs ou tIus tov ply vXiov you to Aojttov nXvBos tuv 
ocdl^uv ivcc7ro\r)<P§Vvcu tv mxav $ivv' to $b i\vu$ts xa» SoXb^ov /xtla. tvs 
tuv Ly^uv auyy.giaeus btt'I TorSlo y.ooTotcflvvoa, to /3a^o?, bb Xv/abvov <$£ 
-si/ sxvJu x«» vvalftttpopBVQV cvvi^uSj ** /atv Tuv vyguv tvv SuXuapav *y 

G 4 




ss 


NOTES. 


tuv cltgefxviuTtguv ttowcxi t>jv yr\v nr»jXw3v) kou Ttx^ihwq xTxXriV. 

TXV%V S't TO /JAV TTguloV T« 7TBQ TOV Y/XtOV TVQOq KXTXXx^XVTOq TTij^V 

XxQbTv, £7 rtiTx $tx ryv ^t^fxxcixv xvx^vfxyfxtvxq Tvjq ’vTr^xvtixq, cvvoiox- 
cxi tivx tuv vy^uv kccIx 7 roXXyq T07r«£, xa» yEVEVSaE ttbq xvtx cyittb- 
6'ovxg v(jlbcb Xtn Toij TBQB^(pjj.Bvxq. oort^ eoK* Iv roiV eXecte >c«£ tok Xi[A~ 

VX^hjCE TUV T07CUV ETE KXB VVV O^XcBXi yiVOfJLBVOV' ETTB^XV T»K %«£»? >£« - 

lE-vJ/ty^ii^ xtyvu bixi rvgoq 6 a!j^ ytvxlxv, (xx XxGuv tyjv [aCIx£o?wv bk tS 
y.xl’ oXiyov' ^uoyovapEVUv ^e tuv vy^uv 5e«. t xq ^E^xc\xq tov ee px/j-tvov 
Tgovrov, Txq y.lv yvvTxq Xx[/.Qxvtiv xvt'bkx ty.v Tgotp? ’,v bk Tvyq imrlvcxq 
a7ro ra TBQBy^ovioq b/A,i^Xxq , ra; ^e x^t^xq vtto t« KXVfxccloq cIeqScSxi' 
to & e tc%xlov Tuv Kvofpo^y/xsvuv ryv tbXbbxv xu^yctv hxGovlciiv, y.ca tuv 
vfjttvuv hxxxvSsvlwv re kxi VEQgpxyevluv, xvxtyvxvxy xou Qx vrj- 
vxt 7rav\o&x7ry<; Tv'ujyq £uuv' thtuv $e tx /xbv 'TO-XeetItk Ssgpixcixq 
KBKOBVUVr,Ko\x -SE TgOq Tdq /JEt] EUQiq TOTBHq X'&eXSeTv, ytVOUBVX 'ofl^VX. TX 
c^e ytu^yq xv ^t^ppf.tvx cvyv.Qi.Qtuq tv tx tuv tg'&tluv xai tuv cl70\uv 
tuv I'SJiytiuv Tx%et kxtxqS/xxSxvx e. t« cl's (pvctuq iygxq ^.x'hiclx pt.E- 
*1eeX» i(poTX 'Dt^oj tov bjxoytvx totqov crvv^xpt't'v ovo^xcBtvrx TjXutx. 
He goes on to illustrate this singularly obscure hypothesis, by the 
production of insects and reptiles from the mud of the Nile. 

Diod. Sic. Lib. I. 

Translated in page 52 of the preceding Lecture. 


Note 3. —Among the ancient philosophers, various modifications 
of the hypothesis which supposes the eternity of the world, are to 
be found. 

Ocellus Lucanus, who lived a short time before Plato, was one of 
the most ancient asserters of the world’s eternity. A short treatise, 
bearing his name, yet remains, upon this subject • Ocell. Lucan, de 
Univ. p. 306. inter opusc. mythol. edil. per T. Gale, 1688. The 
arguments which he produces will not be considered as the most 
decisive and satisfactory that could be wished: for he asserts, that 
the world must be eternal, because it’s figure and motion are circular; 
and because it is impossible for any thing to arise out of nothing, or 
to fall again into nothing. 

Aristotle maintained, that not only the world, but that mankind, 
and all species of animals, have existed from eternity, without any 


NOTES. 8$ 

original production ; and that the earth, with all it’s variations, and 
iu all it’s parts, has ever been what it now is. 

The later Platonists deduce their principal arguments in favour of 
the eternity of the world, from the eternity of God’s decree for it’s 
creation, “ and the indivisibility of the real duration of God.’* They 
maintain that God always existed; that his decree was eternal; and 
that there could not be a time in which it did not exist in the divine 
mind. Be it so: there remains still much perplexity in their rea¬ 
soning ; and, as it appears to me, much sophism in their deductions. 
There must be a difference between ideal (if the expression be law¬ 
ful) and actual creation; and I do not see how it can be proved, that 
the decree was not anterior to the accomplishment of that decree. 

Xenophanes and his followers supposed, that God and the world 
were one and the same thing; and of course held it’s eternity and 
immutability. This, again, has been denied by others : but there is 
so much obscurity in the statement which these philosophers have 
made of their own opinions, that if they did not mean this, it is diffi¬ 
cult to decide what hypothesis they did intend to convey. 

Of one or the other of these opinions respecting the eternity of 
the world, appear to have been Strato, of Lampsacus,and Alexander 
the Epicurean, the contemporary of Plutarch. 

Others supposed the matter of the world to be eternal, but not the 
form of it. These, in fact, held the eternity of the chaos, to which 
they attributed a certain motion arising from the action and reaction 
of the first four qualities, producing the earth by mere fortuitous 
fluctuations; and thus, this hypothesis resolves itself into the pre¬ 
ceding one, viz. that the world itself w as produced by chance. 

The reader who may wish to see a larger and more laborious state¬ 
ment of these several hypotheses, and others, not brought forward 
in this note, will find a full and satisfactory discussion of them in 
Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. I. p. 77—91; title. The Cosmogony. But in 
some later 8vo. editions, these statements are transferred to vol. 
XVIII. Appendix, p. 114—126. This note bears reference to p. 
56 of the preceding lecture. 

Note 4. —Extracted from Ovid : 

“ Ante mare et tellus, et, quod tegit omnia, coelum, 

Unus erat toto naturae vultus in orbe, 


50 


NOTES. 


Quern dixere chaos; rudis, indigestaque moles; 

Nec quicquam nisi pondus incrs; congestaquc eodem 
Non bene junctarum discordia semina rerum. 

Nullus adhuc mundo praebebat lutnina Titan ; 

Nec nova crescendo reparabat cornua Phoebe; 

Nec circumfuso pendebat in aere tellus 
Ponderibus librata suis : nec brachia longo 
Margine terrarum porrexerat Amphitrite. 

Quaquc fuit tellus, illic et pontus et aer: 

Sic erat instabilis tellus, innabilis unda, 

Lucis egcns aer. Nulli sua forma manebat. 
Obstabafcque aliis aliud* quia corpore in uno 
Frigida pugnabant calidis, humentia siccis, 

Molliacum duris, sine pondere habentia pondus. 
Hanc Deus, et melior litem Natura deremit. 

Nam coelo terras, et terris abscidit undas : 

Et liquidum spisso secrevit ab acre coelum. 

Quae postquam evolvit, caecoque exemit acervo, 
Dissociata locis concordi pace ligavit. 

Ignea convexi vis et sine pondere cadi 
Emicuit, summaque locum sibi legit in arce. 

Proximus est aer illi levitate, locoque : 

Densior his tellus: elementaque grandia traxit; 

Et pressa est gravitate sui. Circumfluus humor 
Ultima possedit, solidumque coercuit orbem. 

“ Sic ubi dispositam, quisquis fuit ille Deorum, 
Congeriem secuit, sectamque in membra redegit; 
Principio terrain, ne non aequalis ab omui 
Parte foret, magni speciem glomeravit in orbis. 

Turn freta defundi, rapidisque tumescere ventis 
Jussit, et ambitae circumdare littora terrae. 

Addidit et fonte-, immensaque stagna lacusque; 
Fluminaque obliquis cinxit declivia ripis : 

Quae diversa locis partim sorbentur ab ipsa; 

In mare perveniunt partim, campoque rccepta 
Liberioris aquae, pro ripis littora pulsant. 

Jussit et extendi campos, subsidere valles, 

Fronde tegi silvas, lapidosos surgerc montes. 


NOTES. 


Utque dute dextra coelum, totidemque sinistra 
Parte secant Zonae, quinta est ardentior illis; 

Sic onus inclusum numero distinxit eodem 
Cun Dei: totidemque plagae tellure premuntur. 
Quarum quae media est, non cst habitabiiis aestu : 

Nix tegit alta duas : totidem inter utramque locavit; 
Temperienique dedit, mista cum frigorc flamma. 
Imminet his aer, qui, quanto est pondere terrae 
Pondus aquae levins, tanto cst onerosior igni. 

Illic et nebulas, illic consistere nubes 
Jussir, et human as motura tonitrua mentes, 

Et cum fulminibus facientes frigora ventos. 

His quoque non passim mundi fabricator habendum 
Aera permisit. Vix nunc obsistitur illis, 

Cum sua quisque regat diverso flamina tractu, 

Quin lament mundum : tanta est discordia fratrura. 

“ Eurus ad Auroram, Nabathaeaque regua recessit, 
Persidaque, et radiis juga subdita matutinis. 

Vesper, et occiduo quae littora sole tepescunt, 
Proxima sunt Zcphyro: Scythiam scptemque triones 
Horrifer invasit Boreas : contrariae tell us 
Nubibus assiduis, pluvioque madescit ab Austro, 
ilaec super imposuit liquidum et gravitate carentem 
iEthera, nec quicquam terrenae faecis habentem. 

Vix ita limitibus discreverat omnia certis, 

Cum, qua? pressa din massa latuere sub ipsa, 

Sidera coeperunt toto efFervescere coelo. 

Neu regio foret ulla suis animalibus orba, 

Astra tenent coeleste solum, formaeque Deorum. 
Cesserunt nitidis habitandae piscibus unda?: 



“ Sanctius his animal mentisque capacius ununa 
Deerat adhuc, et quod dominari in caetera posset. 
Natus homo est: sive hunc diviuo semine fecit 
Ille opifex rerum, mundi melioris origo : 

Sive recens tellus seductaque nuper ab alto 
iEthere, cognati retinebat semina cmli: 

Quam satus Japeto, mixtam fluviaiibus undis, 


m 


NOTES. 


Firrxit in effigiem moderantum cuncta Deoruin. 

Pronaque cum spectent animalia cetera terrain, 

Os homini sublime dedit, ccelumque videre 
Jussit, et erectos ad sidera tollere vultus.” 

Ovid. Mctam. lib. 1. 1. 5—86. 

TRANSLATION BY DRYDEN. 

< l Before the seas, and this terrestrial ball. 

And heav’n’s high canopy, that covers all. 

One was the face of nature; if a face, 

Rather a rude and indigested mass . 

A lifeless lump, unfashion’d, and unfram’d, 

Of jarring seeds ; and justly Chaos nam’d. 

No sun was lighted up, the world to view; 

No moon did yet her blunted horus renew; 

Nor yet was earth suspended in the sky ; 

Nor pois’d, did on her own foundations lie: 

Nor seas about the shores their arms had thrown; 

But earth, and air, and water were in one. 

Thus, air was void of light, and earth unstable, 

And waters dark abyss unnavigable. 

No certain form on any was imprest; 

All were confus’d, and each disturb’d the rest. 

For hot and cold, were in one body fixt; 

And soft with hard, and light with heavy mixt. 

u But God, or Nature, while they thus contend, 

To these intestine discords puts an end; 

Then earth from air, and seas from earth were driven, 
And grosser air sunk from ethereal heaven. 

Thus, disembroil’d, they take their proper place; 

The next of kin, contiguously embrace; 

And foes are sunder’d, by a larger space. 

The force of fire ascended first on high, 

And took it’s dwelling in the vaulted sky ; 

Then air succeeds, in lightness next to fire; 

Whose atoms from unactive earth retire. 

Earth sinks beneath, and draws a num’rous throne 
Of pond’rous, thick, unwieldy seeds along. 


NOTES. 


About her coasts, unruly waters roar; 

And, rising on a ridge, insult the shore. 

“ Thus, when the God, whatever God was he, 
Had form’d the whole, and made the parts agree, 
That no unequal portions might be found, 

He moulded earth into a spacious round: 

Then with a breath, he gave the winds to blow: 

And bade the congregated waters flow. 

He adds the running springs, and standing lakes; 
And bounding banks for winding rivers makes. 
Some part in earth are swallow’d up, the most 
In ample oceans disembogu’d, are lost. 

He shades the woods, the vallies he restrains 
With rocky mountains, and extends the plains. 

u And as five zones th* ethereal regions bind. 
Five, correspondent, are to earth assign’d: 

The sun with rays, directly darting down, 

Fires all beneath, and fries the middle zone: 

The two beneath the distant poles, complain 
Of endless winter, and perpetual rain. 

Betwixt th’ extremes, two happier climates hold 
The temper that partakes of hot, and cold. 

The fields of liquid air, inclosing all. 

Surround the compass of this earthly ball: 

The lighter parts lie next the fires above; 

The grosser near the wat’ry surface move: 

Thick clouds are spread, and storms engender there, 
And thunder’s voice, which wretched mortals fear, 
And winds that on their wings cold winter bear. 

Nor were those blust’ring brethren left at large. 

On seas, and shores, their fury to discharge : 

Bound as they are, and circumscrib’d in place, 

They rend the world, resistless as they pass; 

And mighty marks of mischief leave behind; 

Such is the rage of their tempestuous kind. 

“ First, Eurus to the rising morn is sent, 

(The regions of the balmy continent;) 


NOTES. 


94 

• *' * 

And eastern realms, where early Persians run. 

To greet the blest appearance of the sun. 

Westward the wanton Zephyr wings his flight; 

Pleas’d with the remnants of departing light. 

Tierce Boreas, with his offspring, issues forth 
T’ invade the frozen waggon of the north; 

While frowning Auster seeks the southern sphere, 

And rots, w ith endless rain, th’ unwholesome year. 

u High o’er the clouds, and empty realms of wind. 

The God a clearer space for heaven design’d ; 

Where fields of light, and liquid aether flow. 

Purg'd from the pond’rous dregs of earth below. 

u Scarce had the Power distinguish’d these, when straight, 
The stars, no longer overlaid with weight, 

Exert their heads, from underneath the mass; } 

And upward shoot, and kindle as they pass, > 

And with diffusive light adorn their heavenly place. ) 

Then, every void of nature to supply. 

With forms of gods he fills the vacant sky: 

New* herds of beasts, he sends the plains to share: T 

New r colonies of birds to people air: > 

And to their oozy beds, the finny fish repair. ) 

u A creature of a more exalted kind 
Was wanting yet, and then was man design’d: 

Conscious of thought, of more capacious breast, 

For empire form’d, and fit to rule the rest: 

Whether with particles of heavenly fire 
The God of nature did his soul inspire, 

Or earth, but new divided from the sky, 

And, pliant, still retain’d th’ ethereal energy: 

Which wise Prometheus* temper'd into paste, 

And mix’d with living streams the godlike image cast. 

Thus, while the mute creation downward bend 
Tiieir sight, and to their earthy mother tend, 


* w Japetus”-~or Japliet, 






NOTES. 


95 


Man looks aloft; and with erected eyes 
Beholds his own hereditary skies. , 

From such rude principles our form began ; 

And earth was metamorphos’d into man.” 

GurtICs Ovid. Vol. I . p. 5 — 9. 

This extract from Ovid refers to page 70, of the preceding Lec¬ 
ture: 


Note 5. —Testimony to the majesty of the scriptures from Lon¬ 
ginus in his treatise on the sublime. He had been saying that, 
“ those who speak of God, ought to be careful to represent him as 
“ great, and pure, and without alloy:” lie adds, Tctvry v.ca o ruv 
la^otiuv SbctpoQbtvis , o rvyfv ccvyg, i'CXBi^v) 'njv rS <ivv ctpiv xulct 
Tt) v ctfyctv Kct^tpYivBVf bv-jvj tv T7) ft tricOAJ? y^oc^txs ruv vopuv, 

“Eittek b 0eoj, m ty-naV t?; “ ytvBcrSw (pus, lyBVBro * yBVB<r§u yv, 

xa\ ByBVBTU.” Thus the legislator of the Jews, a man of no com¬ 
mon genius, conceived and spake justly of the power of Deity, when in 
the very beginning of his laws, he writes —“ God said” {said he) 
What ? “ Be light, and it was : Be earth, and it was so” 

Dion. Long, de Sublim. Sec. IX. p. 50. Pearce's Edit. 


Longinus lived in the time of Aurelian the emperor, and was a 
favourite of Zenobia, queen of the Palmyrians. His treatise “ on 
“ the sublime,” from which the above extract is taken, is, in itself 
a master-piece of eloquence. 

This extract refers to page 7G, of the preceding Lecture. 


LECTURE III. 


THE DELUGE. 


GEN. VII. 11— 24 . 

In the sir hundredth year of Noah's life, in the 
second months the seventeenth day of the month, 
the sa?)ie day were all the fountains of the great 
deep broken up , and the windows of heaven were 
opened. And the rain was upon the earth forty 
days and forty nights. In the selfsame day 
entered Noah, and Shem, and Ham, and Ja- 
pheth, the sons of Noah, and Noah's wife, and 
the three wives of his sons with them into the 
ark: They, and every beast after his kind, and 
all the cattle after their kind, and every creep¬ 
ing thing that creepeth upon the earth after his 
kind, and every fowl after his kind, every bird 
of every sort. And they went in unto Noah 
into the ark, two and two of all flesh, wherein 
is the breath of life. And they that went in, 




I 

97 

went in malt and female of all flesh, as God had 
commanded him: and the Lord shut him in. 
And the flood was forty days upon the earth; 
and the waters increased , and bare up the ark; 
and it was. lift up above the earth. And the 
waters prevailed\ and were increased greatly 
upon the earth: and the ark went upon the 
face of the waters. And the waters prevailed 
exceedingly upon the earth: and all the high 
hills , that were under the whole heaven, were 
covered. Fifteen cubits upward did the waters 
prevail; and the mountains were covered. And 
all flesh died , that moved upon the earth , both of 
fowl , and of cattle, and of beast , and of every 
creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth , and 
every man. All in whose nostrils was the breath 
of life; of all that was in the dry land , died. 
And every living substance was destroyed which 
was upon the face of the ground , both man , and 
cattle , and the creeping things , and the fowl of 
the heaven; arid they were destroyed from the 
earth: and Noah only remained alive , and they 
that were with him in the ark. And the waters 
prevailed upon the earth , an hundred and jflty 
days. 

2 pet. hi. 5 —7. 

For this they willingly are ignorant of that by 
the word of God the heavens were of old , and 


H 


I 


the earth standing out of the water and in the 
water. IF hereby the world that then was , being 
overflowed with water , perished. But the hea¬ 
vens and the earth which are now , by the same 
word are kept in store , reserved unto fire against 
the day of judgment, and perdition of ungodly 
men. 

Jt is impossible to read the history of empires 
which once gave laws to the world, to trace the 
sources of their gradual decay, and to contem¬ 
plate them in ruins, without emotions of pity 
and regret. The man who visits the spot where 
ancient imperial Rome stood, and held through 
many successive ages a boundless dominion 
over the commotions of the world, and finds 
only the sad monuments of decayed greatness, 
must possess feelings peculiar to himself, if no 
melancholy sensations arise in his heart to ac¬ 
cord with the desolations without. Where her 
awful senate convened, time strides over the 
ruin, and writes on the broken triumphal arch, 
“ The glory is departed." The traveller, as he 
sits upon a prostrate pillar, hears no sound but 
the passing wind, as it sighs along the weed- 
encompassed portico of some mouldering tem¬ 
ple. The amphitheatre, once crowded with the 
masters of the globe, now shelters the bat, and 
the serpent; and affords an asylum to the owl 


99 

from the glare of noonday. Who, that has an 
heart to feel, can wander among the crumbling 
vestiges of ancient grandeur, without dropping 
a tear over the scene of desolation, and ex¬ 
claiming, “ So sets the sun of earthly majesty, 
“ to rise no more for ever?” 

But the destruction which now demands our 
attention, is of much wider extent, and of in¬ 
finitely greater magnitude. Not a city, nor an 
empire, but a world in ruins, is the subject of 
contemplation. A new and awful view of Deity 
is conveyed to the mind. We behold him, not 
descending in mercy, wafted on the wings of 
angels, amid the full chorus of heaven, to spread 
his golden compasses over the vast abyss, and 
to describe the circle of the earth; calling uni¬ 
versal nature from discord and chaos; lending 
radiance to the sun, and immensity to the 
spheres; impressing his image upon man; con¬ 
stituting him lord of the creation; placing the 
diadem of glory upon his head, and the sceptre 
of authority in his hand: but we contemplate 
the offended Majesty of Heaven, arrayed in 
vengeance; terrible in fury; clothed in all the 
thunder of his power; arming the elements 
against his adversaries ; and opening the dread¬ 
ful artillery of his wrath upon a guilty world. 

When God completed the creation, he beheld 
in the harmony and magnificence of his work, 

n 2 



v 


100 


the perfect transcript of his own vast design, 
ancl pronounced the whole, and all it’s several 
parts, “ very good.” By an early act of dis¬ 
obedience, man broke the law of his Maker; 
and not only cancelled the bond of his own 
happiness, but blotted the hand-writing of 
Deity in the volume of nature. The fall of 
man, as a point of doctrine , comes not within the 
department of this course of Lectures : it is our 
business simply to insist upon it as a fact re¬ 
corded in the scriptures, which, ten thousand 
different and fatal effects produced by it, tend 
to establish. To this fact, as a source, must be 
traced up every calamity which wrings a tear 
from the eye, every pang which extorts a groan 
from the heart, and every stroke of mortality 
which descends upon our connections. Sin 
having found it's way into the world, was fol¬ 
lowed by death, and a long train of attendant 
miseries. The yawning tomb presented itself 
to the man at the end of this valley of tears, 
and the grave was the termination of his fondest 
hopes: to the earliest race of men, as to us, it 
was the limit to the longest period of existence. 
A life of “ nine hundred sixty and nine years,” 
like a summer's day, had it's dawn, it's morn¬ 
ing, it’s meridian, it's decline : it yielded to 
the lengthening shadows of the evening; and 


101 


gradually sunk into the gloom of a midnight 
silent and impenetrable. 

Who will be able to set boundaries to vice ? 
When the floodgates are once opened, who shall 
presume to check the torrent, or attempt to 
stay the impetuosity of the rushing waters? The 
rivulet, increased in its course by the constant 
accession of innumerable, tributary streams, 
swells into a flood, and rolls a deep, silent, re¬ 
sistless river, which is at length lost in the 
bosom of the ocean. Such was the progression 
of iniquity. Small in it's beginning, it rapidly 
augmented, till it had covered the whole earth. 
Man added sin to sin, till the measure of his 
transgression was full, and the long-slumbering 
wrath of heaven burst over his unsheltered head. 
He who can think lightly of sin, and wantonly 
or deliberately walk in the paths of temptation, 
resembles a man who suffers his little bark to 
approach the circumference of a whirl-pool: at 
first the vessel glides on in gentle, wide, and 
almost imperceptible, circumvolutions: conti¬ 
nually, however, approaching the centre, and 
bearing the wretch thither with increased velo¬ 
city, till in defiance of effort, the violence of * 
the current prevails, and all is ingulfed in the 
illimitable abyss. 

Before the subject, which is to occupy our 
present attention, is considered at large, the in- 

n 3 


102 


termediate history, which demands elucidation, 
ought to pass in review before us. One of the 
most extraordinary circumstances, attending 
the antediluvian history, is the astonishing 
duration of human life in those days, contrasted 
with the brevity of our own. Some have con¬ 
jectured, that the years ascribed to these first 
men, were lunar, and not solar. To consider 
them as months, would release us from one diffi¬ 
culty, but it must involve us in another still 
more considerable. Among other objections, 
the following may be deemed unanswerable : 
First, this calculation reduces their lives to a 
shorter period than our own : Secondly, some 
of them must have been fathers under, or about, 
six years of age: Thirdly, it contracts the in¬ 
terval between the creation and the deluge, to 
considerably less than two hundred years, even 
admitting the larger calculation of the Sep- 
tuagint*. 

The account of this longevity, however, is 
not restricted to the Mosaic history: but is 
corroborated by various ancient writers. Upon 
this subject, Josephus enumerates the testimo- 


* The common calculation settles the date of the flood at 1656 
years after the creation: but the Septuagint places it in the year of 
the world 2262. 




103 


nies of Manetho, Berosus, Mochus, Hestasus, 
Jerome the Egyptian; the writers of the Pheni- 
cian antiquities, Ilesiocl, Hecatseus, Hellanicus, 
Acusilaus, Epporus, and Nicholas, who gene¬ 
rally agreed that u the ancients lived a thousand 
“ years*.” 

We have accumulated these names to shew, 
that these men either were in possession of tra¬ 
ditions relating to this fact, upon which their 
assertions are founded ; or that they borrowed 
them from Moses: and in either case our pur¬ 
pose is answered. For if they received them 
from prevalent traditions, it will be granted 
that these traditions had originally some founda¬ 
tion in fact; and they correspond with the 
sacred history. But if they borrowed them 
from Moses, two points are gained on our part. 
It is proved, on this principle, that such a man 
as Moses did really exist; that his writings 
were then extant; that they were in substance 
what they now are; and that they bear an an¬ 
tiquity more remote than these, which are al¬ 
lowed to be the most ancient of the heathen 
writers. It is proved further, that his history 
was highly esteemed; and that it was supposed, 
by these writers, to contain facts. Whether 

* See note 1, at the end of this Lecture. 

ii 4 




104 


they drew from Moses, or from tradition; and 
whether their testimony sprang from his nar¬ 
ration, or from any other source; either way, 
the Mosaic account of these early ages, is cor¬ 
roborated by the oldest fragments of anti¬ 
quity. 

Various enquiries have been agitated respect¬ 
ing the principles on which we may reasonably 
account for this longevity; and it will be 
readily granted that the answers attempted are 
founded upon opinion only. Some have im¬ 
puted it to the temperance of the antediluvians, 
and their simplicity of diet. Others have ima¬ 
gined that it arose from the superior excellence 
of their fruits, or some peculiar salubrity in the 
herbs of those days. A third class of philoso¬ 
phers have stated, that it proceeded from the 
strength of their stamina , or first principles of 
bodily constitution; that they had an organiza¬ 
tion more vigorous, and a frame more robust. 
This has been admitted, by some, to be a con¬ 
current, but not a sole and adequate cause: 
since Shem, who was born before the flood, and, 
it is to be presumed, had therefore all the 
strength of an antediluvian constitution, fell 
short of the age of his fathers three hundred 
years. In addition, therefore, to natural bodily 
energy, it is probable that there was a tem¬ 
perature of the air, and an adaptation of the 


105 


general state of the earth, to the production of 
this extraordinary longevity, which temperature 
was destroyed by the Deluge. But there is no 
way of completely answering such enquiries, 
but by referring immediately to the will and 
power of him, who is “ wonderful in counsel, 
“ and excellent in working.’* 

Moses relates also an union which took place 
between the family of Seth and the descendants 
of Cain: for so we interpret the phrase, “ Sons 
“ of God,” and “ daughters of men.” It is 
generally believed that the sons of Seth had, 
till that time, preserved the worship of God, 
with correspondent purity of life, while it is 
agreed that the posterity of Cain were given 
over to “ vile affectionsand on this suppo¬ 
sition the fitness of the terms used, and the 
propriety of their application to the respective 
parties, will not be disputed. This fatal union 
totally destroyed the principles of holiness 
which a part of the human race had preserved 
from extinction; and when from this commerce 
sprang “ mighty men,” and “ men of renown,” 
“ the” whole “ earth was" quickly “ filled with 
“ violence.” “ There were,” also, “ giants in 
“ the earth, in those days.” We understand the 
term literally, as implying, not merely men of 
violence, but of extraordinary bulk and stature. 
And why should this account be disputed, when 


106 


Confirmed by so many ancient writers ? Pausa- 
nias, Philostratus, Pliny, and others, speak de¬ 
cidedly of the remains of gigantic bodies dis¬ 
covered in their days*. “ Upon the rending of 
“ a mountain in Crete, by an earthquake,” says 
this last-mentioned natural historian, “ there 
“ was found standing upright a gigantic body.” 

Josephus speaks of bones seen in his days, of a 

% 

magnitude that almost exceeded credibility. 
Even Homer, who wrote three thousand years 
ago, speaks, from tradition, that, in his “ de- 
“ generate days,” the human frame was dwin¬ 
dled down into half it’s size. It is not neces¬ 
sary to contend, nor is it intimated in the 
Mosaic account, that the bodies of men in 
general were of such prodigious dimensions : 
all that we wish to prove is, that “ there were 
“ giants in those daysthat there were, pro¬ 
bably, many of them ; and that this scriptural 
relation is abundantly confirmed by profane 
historians. 


* See Doddridge’s Lectures, Part VI. Prop. cix. &c. p. 293, § 5, 
4to. edit. Grotius de Verit. Ilelig. Christ. § xvi. notes. Plin. Nat. 
Ilist. lib. v. c. 16. Consult also Dr. Geddes’ Criticism on Gen. vi. 
in which he espouses an opposite opinion from that stated above : but, 
as it appears to the writer of these Lectures, one, which reflects less 
credit upon the veracity of Moses, as an historian ; and destroys his 
claim to inspiration. 






I 


107 

At this time, fraud and injustice, rapine and 
violence, according to the sacred writer, ex¬ 
tended themselves over the face of the earth. 
Is he singular in this declaration? Who, that 
has read the records of antiquity, may not gather 
a confirmation of his statement, from their depo¬ 
sition ? Who, that is conversant with the fables of 
the heathen poets, may not extract this truth 
from the cumbrous mass of fiction by which it is 
overwhelmed. A golden age, gradually dege¬ 
nerating into an iron one, has been sung by a 
thousand bards, whose silent harps have long 
since mouldered away with the ashes of their 
masters! Which of the ancient poets, did not 
celebrate these times? or deplore their extinc- 
tion ? Catullus* has stated this fact nearly in 
the terms used by Moses; and has amplified 
his expressions so largely, as to present almost 
a commentary upon the sixth chapter of Gene¬ 
sis. Ovidf tells the same tale; and represents 


* In his Epithalamium of Peleus and Thetis: see note 2, at the 
end of this Lecture. 

f Victa jacet pietas ; et virgo caede madentes 
Ultima ccelestum terras Astrea reliquit. 

Ovid’s Meta. I. 

Faith flies ! and piety in exile mourns; 

And justice, here oppress’d, to heav’n returns! 




108 


his injured justice driven from men by the hand 
of rapacity, and seeking shelter in her native 
heavens! 

Amidst this general depravity, was issued a 
solemn declaration from heaven; “ My spirit 
“ shall not always strive with man.” Yet was 
not sudden and silent destruction, commissioned 
to destroy the guilty. The patience and pity 
of God, were manifested even in his rising in¬ 
dignation. Enoch and Noah were “ preachers 
“ of righteousnessand a space of one hun¬ 
dred and twenty years was allotted to the 
offenders for repentance. Enoch, in the mean 
time, was received into heaven “ without tast- 
“ ing of death;” and Noah having closed his 
unavailing ministry, entered into the ark, con¬ 
structed according to the pattern given by God 
himself, with his family, and the pairs of all 

living animals. For the world-they “ were 

<c eating and drinking, marrying*, and giving in 
“ marriage, and knew not till the flood came 
“ and swept them all away !” 

The subject of the present Lecture is, The 
Deluge; and the arrangement which we 
propose is—To establish the fact: to state the 
hypotheses of some writers who have attempted 
to aceount for it: to meet some objections 



log 

raised against it: and to suggest an improve¬ 
ment of it. We shall endeavour 

I. TO ESTABLISH THE FACT. 

The evidence upon which we would fix your at¬ 
tention, is simply:—The general and concurrent 
consent of nations ; and the existence of vast 
quantities of marine productions upon the tops of 
mountains, And under the surface of the ground 
to considerable depths, over the whole earth, 
and at all distances from the sea. 

1. The general and concurrent consent 
of nations. —This is an argument in favour of 
an universal deluge, which has never been fairly 
met: nor indeed does it appear capable of satisfac¬ 
tory solution on any principle but the admission 
of the fact. It has been most forcibly maintained, 
that antiquity is full of testimonies relating to 
this singular event; that the whole heathen 
mythology sprang from traditions of the deluge; 
and that Prometheus, Deucalion, Atlas, Theuth, 
Zuth, Xuthus, Inachus, Osiris, Dagon, and 
others, were all different names by which Noah 
was intended. *The traditions of the destruc- 


* The ingenious writer, who has, with equal ability and success, 
collected all the testimonies of antiquity, and unveiled the mysteries 





110 


tion of the globe, partially or intirely, by wa¬ 
ters, are found among the fragments of the 
most ancient heathen writers; pervade India; 
live among* the wandering tribes of America; 

O O 7 

and meet the enquirer in the distant islands of 
the Pacific Ocean. Eusebius has preserved a 
passage from Abydenus’ history of Assyria, to 
the following effect: 

“ After these, reigned many others, and then 
“ Seisithrus : to whom Saturn foretold, that 
“ there should fall a prodigious flood of rain on 
“ the fifteenth day of the month Desius; and 
<c commanded him to deposit all his writings 
“ in Heliopolis, a city of the Sipparians. Having 
“ obeyed this injunction, Seisithrus, without de- 
“ lay, sailed into Armenia, and found the pre- 
“ diction of the god realised. On the third 
“ day, after the waters were abated, he sent 
“ out birds, that he might ascertain whether 
“ the earth had yet appeared through the flood. 
u But these, finding only a boundless sea, and 
“ having no resting place, returned to Seisithrus. 
“ In the same manner did others. And again 
“ he sent the third time: for they had returned 


concealed under their fables, is Mr. Bryant, in his System of My¬ 
thology. Those who wish to find an epitome of his reasoning, and 
some considerable extracts from his work, may be gratified by con¬ 
sulting the Encyclopedia Britannica—Article Deluge. 





Ill 


“ to him, having their wings polluted with mud. 
“ Then the gods translated him from among 
“ men; and his ship came into Armenia, the 
“ wood of which is there used as a charm*.” He 
refers also to the dove of Noah, when speaking 
of the sagacity of animals, he says, “ Deuca- 
“ lion's dove, sent from the ark, upon her re- 
“ turn, brought a sure indication, that the tem- 
“ pests had yielded to tranquillity^.” 

Concerning Berosus’ history of Chaldea, Jo¬ 
sephus, in his first book against Appion, thus 
writes : “ This Berosus, treading in the steps of 
“ the most ancient writers, has recorded the 
“ same facts as Moses, in relation to the deluge 
“ —the destruction of mankind by it—the ark 
“ in which Noah, the father of our race, was 
“ preserved—and it's resting upon the tops of 
“ the Armenian mountains.” After the rela¬ 
tion to which Josephus alludes, Berosus adds, 
“ It is reported that part of the ship now re- 
“ mains in Armenia, on the Gordyaean moun- 
“ tains; and that some bring thence pitch, 
“ which they use as a charmJ.” 


* Euseb. Przep. lib. ix. cap. 12. See note 3, at the end of this 
Lecture. 

J AeVHCttiluvi tyctai 7 TEgicrlegccv Ik tv? Xu^ukos a.tpitts.ymv vycii 
yi*ecr9aa, ^Hyui/Of yAv tlffu 'ZtraAiv IvS'voy.tirjV, oi oc.'Groeala.&et *. 

Libro, Tcrrestria an Aquatica Animantia plus habeant solertia;. 

t Josephus Contr. Appion, primo; et Antiq. Hist. lib. i. cup. 4. 







112 


Lucian speaks of a very remote history of the 
ark, laid up in Hierapolis of Syria ; and the ac¬ 
count which, according to him, the Greeks gave 
of the deluge is as follows: “ That the first 
“ race of men were self-willed, perpetrating 
many crimes, regardless of oaths, inhospita- 
u ble, uncharitable: for which cause, great 
“ calamities fell upon them. For suddenly the 
“ earth threw out much water : a deluge of rain 
“ fell from heaven : rivers overflowed exceed- 
“ ingly; and the sea itself overspread the globe 
“ to that degree, that all things were over- 
a whelmed by the water, and the whole of 
“ mankind perished. Deucalion alone remain- 
“ ed, the source of another generation, on ac- 
“ count of his prudence and piety. He was 
“ preserved thus : In a great ark, which he had 
“ prepared, he placed his wives and his chil- 
“ dren, and entered also himself. After them 
“ went in bears, and horses, and lions, and 
“ serpents, and all other living creatures upon 
“ the face of the earth, by pairs. He received 
“ all these animals, which had no power to 
“ injure him, but were extremely familiar, 


See note 4, at the end of this Lecture. The Gordycean mountains, 
are the same with those which Moses calls Ararath. See Grotius de 
Verit, Relig. Christ. § 16, notes. 




113 


u being overruled by divine influence. These 
“ all floated together, in the same ark, so long 
“ as the waters were upon the earth*.” 

We have already remarked, that the same 
person was intended by a diversity of names; 
and Grotius says, that “ Seisithrus, Ogyges, 
“ and Deucalion, are all names signifying, in 
“ other languages, the same as Noah does in 
“ the Hebrew, the language in which Moses 
“ wrotej*.” Now it is a fact well known, that 
the ancient writers, in copying from any origi¬ 
nal, did not give in their translation the names 
used in that original: but changed them for 
some other that had the same meaning; in the 
language into which they translated them, as 
the original names had in that, from which they 
transcribed. For instance, Alexander the his¬ 
torian, writing concerning Isaac in Greek, does 
not adhere to the original name, but calls him 
Telota (T«Wa) or <£ Laughter which is the in¬ 
terpretation of the Hebrew name Isaac; and 
was given him by Sarah in remembrance of 
some circumstances relating to his birth. Thus, 


* Lucian, libro de Dea Syria, et de ternplo vetustissimo quod 
crat Hierapoli. 

vf Grotius de Verit. Relig. Christ. $ 16 — notes : where also these 
extracts from Lucian and others, are quoted at length, with many 
similar ones. For both the above quotations, see note 5, at the end 
of this Lecture. 

I 





114 


by the different names used in the accounts 
which different nations give of the deluge, the 
same person is intended—and that person is 
Noah. Diodorus says, it is the tradition of the 
Egyptians, that “ Deucalion’s was the univer- 
“ sal deluge.” Plato corroborates this testi¬ 
mony by saying, “ that a certain Egyptian 
“ priest, related to Solon, out of their sacred 
“ books, the history of the universal deluge; 
“ which took place long before the partial in- 
u undations known to the Grecians.” There is 
another remarkable coincidence and correspond¬ 
ence with the Mosaic account: the very day 
fixed by Moses as the beginning of the deluge, 
agrees exactly with the day in which, Plutarch 
tells us, Osiris went into the ark, the seven¬ 
teenth of Athyr; which is the second month 
after the autumnal equinox, the sun then pass¬ 
ing through Scorpio.-It is thus that the evi¬ 

dence of the universal deluge, in this particular 
branch of it, corresponds with that of the crea¬ 
tion : that it is equally the subject of tradition; 
and that tradition, varying a little in circum¬ 
stance, is equally prevalent over the face of the 
whole earth. This fact is farther proved by, 

2, The existence of vast quantities op 
Marine productions upon the tops of 

MOUNTAINS, AND UNDER THE SURFACE OF THE 
GROUND, TO CONSIDERABLE DEPTHS, OVER THE 



115 


WHOLE EARTH, AND AT ALL DISTANCES FROM 

the sea. —The earthquake that shakes the 
towering palace, and the proud battlements of 
the city, to the ground, rends the bosom of the 
earth, and discloses the shells and teeth of fish— 
the bones of animals—intire or partial vegeta¬ 
bles—evidently transported thither from their 
respective elements, by some grand and univer¬ 
sal commotion, affecting at one and the same 
time, the sea and the dry land, and destroying 
the limits of their mutual separation. This was 
considered as a decisive argument till the recent 
hypotheses of some modern philosophers have 
furnished an evasion of it’s force*. It has been 
proved that volcanoes are capable of forming 
mountains of very considerable magnitude: that 
the fire of them lies deep, and often below the 
waters of the ocean itself. On this account, 
marine substances may be found at all depths in 
these volcanic mountains, and yet afford no 
proof of a deluge. There would be some weight 
in this argument if these marine substances were 
found only in the neighbourhood of volcanoes: 
but with all it’s plausibility, it is incapable of 
universal application. It may be thought to ac^ 
count for marine substances lying deep in vol* 


* Sir William Hamilton. 
I 2 




116 


canic mountains, or lands stretching along the 
borders of the ocean, and liable to volcanic 
irruptions: but it will furnish no satisfactory 
reason for their existence in an inland country, 
free from volcanoes, and hundreds of miles dis¬ 
tant from the sea. There are also appearances 
of desolation presented in nature, which cannot 
be accounted for, even on the supposition of 
earthquakes; nor be deemed the consequence of 
any convulsion, less powerful than that of an 
universal deluge. 

Another hypothesis is levelled against the 
system which we espouse. Some philosophers 
have supposed, that a perfect transposition of 
the order of things has taken place: that what 
island was once sea; and that where the ocean 
rolls his proud waves, the earth presented her 
fair and cultivated face*. If this, indeed, was 
the case, as the sea is liable to the same vol¬ 
canic irruptions, the existence of marine pro¬ 
ductions, on every part of the globe, may be 
accounted for, without the admission of an 
universal deluge: since we may easily imagine, 
that when the waters retreated, they left some 
of their spoils, deeply implanted, behind. The 
observations which we have made, and are ca- 


ft/ 


* Buffon. 









117 

pable of making, iu the contracted sphere of our 
personal knowledge—and the changes which are 
effected on the face of nature, in the narrow 
circle of the few years allotted to us—may not 
perhaps be deemed-any thing: but those of 
ages and generations long since rolled by, and 
which are recorded on the faithful page of im¬ 
partial history, ought to be duly appreciated. 
The inroads which the sea has made upon the 
land, recorded by those who have measured and 
watched its boundaries, in the remembrance of 
our fathers, have been comparatively incon¬ 
siderable : nor will any authentic history of the 
most remote periods, furnish us with matters 
of fact to justify, or even to countenance, an 
hypothesis so extravagant. Every instance 
which can be produced of the ground gained 
by the waves upon the shores of the globe, is 
so trifling, and the conquest was so slowly ac¬ 
quired, that the system proposed must suppose 
an antiquity of the world, very little different, 
as it respects the objections that lie against it, 
from the hypothesis which maintains it’s eter¬ 
nity ; the answer to which fell under the de¬ 
partment of the preceding Lecture. This wild 
opinion, moreover, seems to suppose islands 
only the tops of mountains: but over the whole 
face of our present continents is there no such 
mountain, or chain of mountains, in shape 

i 3 


or 


118 


extent, as our native country—whose hoary 
cliffs stretch their barriers wide and firm, frown¬ 
ing defiance equally upon the waves which as¬ 
sault her shores, and the power of nations who 
insult her majesty ? On the whole, we think, 
that only on the principle of an universal deluge 
can the existence of marine productions found 
scattered wide, and buried deep, over the whole 
globe, be accounted for : since the theory which 
supposes the retreat of the ocean from our pre¬ 
sent earth, and that which rather suggests, than 
asserts, that all dry land was thrown up from 
the bottom of the sea, by volcanic, subterra¬ 
neous fires, are equally preposterous and irra¬ 
tional. Now, the waters were long enough 
upon the earth, according to the Mosaic ac¬ 
count, for shell-fish to breed on land, and to 
increase from spawn to their full size; the ac¬ 
tion of the waters upon the earth would greatly 
soften it; and the spoils of the deep, at, and 
before, the retreat of the waters, would be 
deeply absorbed, and covered by the perforated 
and broken soil. There appears to us to be but 
one way of determining upon this point: the 
Mosaic history is so express, that either an 
universal deluge must be admitted, or the 
whole narration rejected. Had the deluge been 
only partial, some winged animals might have 
made their escape from it, since it gradually 


119 

and progressively extended; and time was con¬ 
sequently afforded them for flight from the en¬ 
croaching waters: but it is said, “ ail flesh died, 
“ that moved upon the earth, both of fowl and 
“ of cattle.” And if the waters were restricted 
to only a portion of the earth, a constant mira¬ 
culous power must have been exerted to keep 
them at an elevation so immense, as to cover 
all the high hills of the immersed part, from 
running off into the sea, supposing the sea to 
have preserved it’s usual level. Nor is it easily 
ascertained, how far the human race had spread 
themselves over the face of the earth, or the 
degree in which man had multiplied. When, 
therefore, we speak of the Deluge, we mean an 
universal flood; and mean to distinguish it from 
the partial inundations which from time to time 
have laid waste particular countries; and which, 
in more remote ages, were preserved in remem¬ 
brance by the heathen poets. 

ii. We pass on to present you with a selection 
of a few, from the innumerable hypotheses 

BY WHICH INGENIOUS WRITERS HAVE AT¬ 
TEMPTED TO ACCOUNT FOR IT. 

To all who have written upon this subject, 
the grand difficulty appears to have been, the 
prodigious quantity of waters requisite to such 

i 4 


120 


a deluge as that described by Moses. There 
are two sources whence the sacred historian 
deduces them: “ the fountains of the great 
“ deep were broken up; and the windows of 
u heaven were opened.” The proportion of 
water necessary to constitute an universal de- 

V 

luge, has been by some estimated at eight 
oceans; while others* have computed it at not 
less than twenty-tivo. The enquiry then is, What 
did Moses intend by “ the fountains of the 
“ deep?" and are these, united with the win- 
“ dows of heaven,” sufficient to cause an in¬ 
undation so immense? 

1. Dr. Buknet| supposes the world to have 
been perfectly round, without mountains or 
any irregularity of surface, incrusting a globe 
of waters, which he calls the central abyss. 
He imagines that this exterior covering of 
earth, was broken at the time of the deluge, 
and sunk down beneath the prevailing waters. 
This system, it is necessary to observe, opposes 
the narrative of Moses, which asserts, that 
“ all the high hills were covered.” 

2. Mr. WhistonJ imputes the whole to the 
interposition and agency of a comet: descend- 


. * Dr. Keil. t Telluris Theoria Sacra. 

X New Theory of the Earth: also, The Cause of the Deluge de«- 
nionstrated. 






121 


ing in the plane of the ecliptic towards the sun, 
and passing just before the earth on the first 
day of the deluge. He also concludes that 
there is an abyss of waters under the surface 
of the earth ; and supposes the influence of this 
body would produce a strong tide on the waters 
both above and under the earth, which would 
increase in proportion to the nearness of it’s 
approach. Those, particularly, encircled within 
the globe, would form an elliptical figure so 
much larger than their former spherical one, 
that, unable to oppose a resistance equal to it's 
pressure, the surface of the earth would burst; 
winch he asserts is the meaning of the phrase, 
“ the fountains of the great deep were broken 
“ up.” He further supposes, that, in its de¬ 
scent, the comet invoh ed the earth in it’s at¬ 
mosphere and tail for a considerable time ; and 
the quantity of water left behind, when rarified 
by the sun, would descend in violent rains; 
which he imagines is intended by the opening 
of “ the windows of heaven.” The succeeding 
heavy rains, recorded by Moses, enduring an 
hundred and fifty days, he attributes to a se¬ 
cond similar immersion, on it's return. In 
withdrawing these destructive waters from the 
face of the ruined world, he supposes a vehe¬ 
ment wind to have arisen, which dried up a 
part, forced more through the clefts out of 


122 


which they issued, and deposited the remainder 
in the bed of the ocean; which he imagines 
not to have existed before. The uncertainty 
of every calculation respecting comets, and 
the possibility that their tails and atmospheres 
are streams of electric fluid, and not aqueous 
vapours, render this ingenious theory very ques¬ 
tionable. 

3. M. de la Pryme*, concludes that the 
antediluvian world resembled the present one: 
but that the deluge was effected by violent 
earthquakes, breaking up its whole surface— 
absorbing continents, islands, and the whole of 
the then dry land, correspondent portions of 
earth emerging from the antediluvian sea. 
Three objections rise against this theory: 1. 
The Mosaic history says nothing of earth¬ 
quakes. 2. Amid commotions so terrible as 
those which must necessarily be caused by the 
sinking of the earth, the ark itself could not 
have been preserved without miracle. 3. Earth¬ 
quakes operate suddenly and violently : but the 
Bible affirms that the flood came on gradually, 
although irresistibly. 

4. The eloquent and ingenious St. Pierre'^, 


* See Encyclopaedia Britannica—article Deluge' 
t Etudes de la Nature. Tome I. Etude IV. 




123 

imagines that the deluge may be accounted for 
on the supposition, that on the year in which 
this great event took place, the action of the 
vertical sun, was not confined to that portion 
of the globe, which is contained between the 
tropics, but was carried over the accumulated 
mountains of ice, at the northern and southern 
poles: which extraordinary circumstance, he 
thinks easily and naturally explained, by sup¬ 
posing that the earth, instead of preserving 
the parallel position of it's poles, presented each 
of them, alternately, to the sun’s verticie 
beams. 

It seems impossible to form any hypothesis 
free from difficulty: and each of those stated, 
bearing a greater or less degree of probability, 
supposes, what in fact every theory must allow, 
an immediate interposition of divine power and 
agency. Admit only the fact, that he who 
made the world, destroyed it by water; and he 
could be at no loss for means to accomplish his 
awful design. The quantity of water required 
is immense: but not impossible to be raised*. 
Who has descended to his central storehouse? or 
seen the magazine of his rain and hail, treasured 
up against the day of wrath? Who can affirm 


* See note G, at the end of this Lecture, 





124 


that God has not a sufficient quantity of water 
in the earth for this grand purpose ? It has 
been proved that no less than one thousand six 
hundred gallons of water have been exhaled from 
one acre of land, and dispersed into the air, in 
twelve of the hottest hours of a summer’s day, 
and when there had been no rain for above a 
month, and the earth was parched bv continual 
heat*! Besides, the sacred writer is consistent 
with himself. He represents the earth origi¬ 
nally covered, in it's unformed state, with wa¬ 
ters, till the voice of God said, “ Let the 
“ waters under the heaven be gathered to- 
“ gether unto one place, and let the dry land 
“ appear: and it was sof." If this theory be 
just, then is the deluge effected only by reduc¬ 
ing the earth to it’s primeval state, and giving 
it over again to the dominion of the waters. 

Admit only, from the reasoning of the first 
part of this Lecture, the fact of a deluge; and 
from the second, the hand of Omnipotence in 
the production of it; and there can be no dif¬ 
ficulty which does not melt away under his re¬ 
sistless operations. Had there been no deluge, 
it were difficult to account for the universal 


* See note 7, at the end of this Lecture, 
t Gen. i. 9. 





125 


traditions respecting it: still more so, to explain 
the appearances presented in the face of nature 
itself. It was impossible for Moses to impose 
the belief of it upon the Jews, appealing as he 
did to names found in the line of their imme¬ 
diate ancestors, and fixing a certain era for this 
wonderful event. Many of them were well ac¬ 
quainted with the contemporaries of Joseph: 
Joseph with the particulars of the life of Abra¬ 
ham : and Abraham lived in the days of the 
sons of Noah. Now the Jews must have re¬ 
ceived traditionary accounts of every remark¬ 
able event, handed down through successive 
generations, in other channels besides the 
writings of Moses. Had his history clashed 
with these traditions, they could not have failed 
to observe it; and had he attempted to impose 
a fable upon them, they could not have failed 
to detect it. And such a detection at the com¬ 
mencement of his history, could not have failed 
to weaken, in the minds of his contemporaries 
especially, the authority and validity of the 
wiioie. 

But we must notice 

III. SOME OBJECTIONS RAISED AGAINST THIS 

ACCOUNT. 

Objection 1, is raised against the ark it¬ 
self. Many have supposed it too small for 


126 


the purposes assigned to it. We might have 
presumed, had not Moses informed us, that a 
vessel so constructed, so designed, and so em¬ 
ployed, could not have sprang from mere human 
contrivance. The length of it was three hun¬ 
dred cubits; the breadth, fifty; the height, 
thirty. The difficulty is to determine what 
was the exact measure of this cubit. Some 
fearing that the ark would not be sufficiently 
capacious for it’s destination, if measured by 
the common cubit, have enlarged it's dimensions 
to extravagance. It is generally agreed, how- 
ever, that they were common cubits : one of 
which, although formerly estimated at eighteen 
of our inches, is now allowed to contain twenty- 
two. According to this measurement, the ark 
must have been, in length 547 tV English feet; 
in breadth, 91-V; in height, 54 vW; and it’s 
solid contents amount to 2,730,781 
almost double what it would be by the former 
computation. The form of it was an oblong 
square, with a flat bottom, and a sloped roof, 
raised a cubit in the middle. It had neither 
sails, nor rudder; and was admirably adapted 
to float steadily on the water, without rolling, 
which might have endangered the lives of the 
animals: but it was unfit to endure a boisterous 
sea. It consisted of three stories: each of which 
might be about eighteen feet high; and was. 



127 

partitioned into numerous apartments. It was, 
without doubt, so formed, as to admit a pro¬ 
per proportion of light, and air, on the sides; 
although the particular construction of the 
windows, is not mentioned. The whole seems 
to have had another covering, besides the roof; 
probably made of skins, like that of the taber¬ 
nacle. Noah is said, after the flood, to have 
removed the “ covering of the arkwhich 
cannot be supposed to be the roof, but some 
thing drawn over it, like the covering of the 
tabernacle; which is also expressed by the same 
Hebrew word; and such a covering was pro¬ 
bably used to defend the windows*. Upon this 
estimate, the ark appears to be sufficiently large 
and commodious, for the purposes for which it 
was constructed. 

Objection 2, arises from the difficulty 

OF ACCOUNTING FOR THE PEOPLING OF AME¬ 
RICA; AND FROM THE SUPPOSED IMPOSSIBILITY 
OF WILD CREATURES OF ALL KINDS EXISTING 

in one place. With regard to the latter of 
these difficulties, it is removed, if we suppose, 
what is at least probable, that there might be 
such a temperature of air before the deluge, as 


* This account and calculation is principally extracted from Anc. 
tjniv, Hist, vol. i. c, 7 —on the Deluge, 




128 


was suited to the constitution of every animal. 
Respecting; the difficulty of peopling America, 
it is neither impossible, nor improbable, after 
the pattern afforded them in the ark, that some 
sort of a vessel or flotilla, should be constructed, 
which would be sufficiently strong to convey 
them, by a north-east passage, to their destina¬ 
tion. The greater difficulty is, the existence of 
wild creatures, and mischievous animals : which 
men neither would, nor could, transport; unless 
some restraint had been laid upon their ferocity, 
similar to that which existed while they re¬ 
mained in the ark. But the modern geographi¬ 
cal discoveries have removed the weight of this 
objection. The straits which divide North 

h 

America from Tartary, are so narrow, as to 
admit a very easy passage from one continent to 
the other; and it is not impossible that they 
might even have been united by an isthmus 
which time and the waves, in their combined 
influence, have demolished*. 

Objection 3, has been urged against the 

DESTRUCTION OF INFANTS AMONG THE INHA¬ 
BITANTS of the old world. We shall not 
attempt to develope the reason why the Al- 


* The reader may consult on this subject, Dodd. Lect. pt. vi. § 8. 
under prop. cxix. p. 350, 351, 4to edit. 




129 

mighty permits devastation among children: 
but we will venture to affirm, that this is no 
objection against the Deluge itself, as a fact, 
any more than against the existence of earth¬ 
quakes, which equally bury infants in their 
ruins. There is an equal propriety in urging it 
against the one fact, as the other ; and if it will 
not be admitted as an objection in the one 
instance, neither ought it to be pressed as a 
difficulty in the other. Those who oppose the 
fact on this ground, affirm that it is “ contrary 
“ to the justice of God.” We contend, with 
a learned writer, # that “ they have no right, in 
“ fairness of reasoning, to urge any apparent 
“ deviation from moral justice, as an argument 
“ against revealed religion; when they do not 
u urge an equally apparent deviation from it as 
“ an argument against natural religion. They 
“ reject the former, and admit the latter, with- 
“ out considering, that, as to their objection, 
“ they must stand or fall togetherbecause 
the apparent deviation is the same in both 
cases. 

Objection 4, respects the rainbow. The 
reasoning adopted is as follows: The same 
causes must always produce the same effects ; 


* Bishop Watson, in his excellent Apology for the Bible. 





iso 


consequently it is an absurdity in the Mosaic 
relation, to speak of the rainbow, as formed 
after the flood, and as the sign of a covenant 
then made. We grant that the rainbow is a 
phenomenon necessarily resulting from the na¬ 
ture of light, and the form and situation of 
falling rain: yet this objection may be answered 
two ways; 

1. Some have supposed that the earth, like 
the garden of Eden, was watered, before the 
Deluge, not by rain, but by mist; in which 
case, no rainbow could exist. 

2. The account of Moses does not directly 
assert, that the rainbow was then first formed; 
but merely that God appealed to it as a seal to 
his covenant. “ I clo set my bow in the clouds ; 
u and it shall be for a token of a covenant be- 
“ tween me and the earth*.” The language 
may, without constraint, be understood to im¬ 
ply, that the rainbow did exist before: but that 
now, for the first time, it is appealed to, and 
appointed, as the seal of a covenant. 

We shall detain your attention farther, only 
while we attempt, 

. 11 * n o '-z»i jL • ' * ^ ’ i • * * « . # * i > .» 

t - ~ - — : -""" . ■■■ -g gg 


* Gen. ix. 13. 





131 


IV. TO IMPROVE THE SUBJECT. 

How can we better succeed in this great ob¬ 
ject, than by pressing upon your consideration, 
the solemn event which the apostle, in the 
words read at the commencement of this Lec¬ 
ture, has connected with it? “ The heavens 
“ and the earth which are now, by the same 
word, are kept in store, reserved unto fire, 
“ against the day of judgment, and perdition 
“ of ungodly men.” 

Carry forwards, therefore, your attention, 
and your thoughts, to this “ great and terrible 
“ day of the Lord.’ You are interested in it; 
and it is inseparable from the subject which 
you have been contemplating. Are men in¬ 
sensible of it’s approach? So were they of the 
threatening destruction hovering over the days 
of Noah; till one boundless scene of ruin opened 
upon their distracted sight, and swept them 
at once from life and hope for ever ! Are those 
derided, who patiently wait the accomplishment 
of the divine promise, and expect the revelation 
of the Lord from heaven? It is no new thing. 
The world have ever been blind to their best 
interests; have ever sported with their own 
ruin. When Noah laid the first beams of his 
ark across each other, it is probable he did it 

k 2 


132 


amid the insulting shouts of an hardened mul¬ 
titude. The building advanced. Some admired 
the structure: some derided his plan: some 
charged him with enthusiasm, or with insanity: 
more were lost in sensuality; and all united in 
the desperate resolution, to bury his admonitions 
in the grave of oblivion. Still he entreated: 
still they spurned his instructions: still the 
edifice rose day after day : still the voice of 
gaiety was echoed on every side. With strange 
infatuation, they stopped their ears; and re¬ 
fused to “ listen to the voice of the charmer/' 
who solicited them with unwearied persever¬ 
ance, and reasoned “ so wisely.” The roof is 
at length covered in. The danger becomes 
every hour more imminent. He presses his 
warnings upon them with increased energy; 
but, pointing to the unclouded sky, they laugh 
him to scorn, and load his ministration with 
contempt. It is closed! The last exhortation 
has been given ; and he has wiped the last tear 
of insulted tenderness from his cheek. Ye 
blind, insensible mortals! what charm has 
“ liolden your eyes,” that ye cannot see? Dis¬ 
cern ye not the cloud that gathers over yonder 
mountain? The brute creation see it; and hasten 
for shelter to the ark. The familv of Noah 
close the procession ; they have entered their 
refuge; and even now “ the door is shut!”—- 


133 


Oh! it is too late! Fraught with heavy indigna¬ 
tion, the tempest lowers fearfully. Every “ face 
gathers blackness.” Yet scarcely is it perceived, 
before a new scene of ruin presents itself. Ah! 
there is no escaping the hand of God! The 
skies pour an unabating torrent. An hollow 
groan is heard through universal nature, deplor¬ 
ing the impending destruction. The birds and 
beasts which remain, excluded from the ark, 
scream and howl in the woods, whither they 
had fled for shelter. The sea assaults the shore : 
the restriction of heaven is removed: it passes 
it’s ancient boundaries : it triumphs already 
over the plains, and gains upon the hills. The 
ark floats upon it’s bosom. The despairing 
multitude fasten upon it an eye of distraction: 
they implore in vain the assistance of the pro¬ 
phet whom they had despised, and whose pity¬ 
ing eyes are again suffused with unavailing- 
tears. lie can bear it no longer. He retires 
to the innermost recesses of his vessel. In the 
phrenzy of despair, parents clasp their children 
to their cold bosoms, and flee to the highest 
mountains. Where else could they resort for 
shelter? for the boundless sea saps the founda¬ 
tion of the firmest edifices. What is their des¬ 
peration as the waves approach the summit! It 
is equally impossible to descend, to rise higher, 
or to escape. They have prolonged a miserable 

k 3 


134 


existence, a few hours, only to sink at last!— 
It is all in vain! “ The waters prevail exceed- 
“ ingly : every high hill is covered; and fif- 
“ teen cubits” over their loftiest summits, the 
flood rises in haughty triumph! 

Do you turn pale at this sad relation ? Ah! 
weep not for these, “ but weep for yourselves!” 
Do you blame their blindness and infatuation? 
Behold, the finger of conscience points to you; 
and it’s voice pronounces of you individually, 
“ Thou art the man !” Are there not “ scoffers 
“ in these last days, walking after their lusts, 
“ and saying, Where is the promise of his 
“ coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all 
u things continue as they were from the be- 
<c ginning of the creation.” Oh! this is wilful 
ignorance—this is incorrigible obstinacy ! The 
great event, discussed this night, stands upon 
firm evidence; and it is the pledge of that 
second desolation to which we ought to be look- 
ing forwards. Are there not triflers with the 
long suffering of God; who presume upon his 
patience, and his mercy; and slumber in the 
arms of thoughtless sensuality? Let these re¬ 
member, that judgment procrastinated, is not 
indignation removed: that the storm, rising 
slowly, accumulates more strength and fury 
than a sudden, transient blast. “ The day of 
“ the Lord will come”—will come “ as a thief 


135 


in the night!” Man, retiring weary from 
the labours of the day, and slumbering under 
the mantle of darkness, shall be scared from 
his sleep, “ to sleep no more,” by the roar of a 
thousand thunders, and the crash of dissolving- 
worlds! Darkness shall reign, at intervals, for 
the last time; and death shall lay down his 
sceptre for ever! Shaking off the fetters of sleep 
and of mortality, the man looks around him 
with an enquiring, distracted eye. Great God ! 
what scenes of despair, and of ruin, present 
themselves! What language shall describe the 
horror of that day, in the contemplation of 
which, imagination fails? Kings, starting from • 
their couch of down, or bursting from their 
tombs of marble, shall reluctantly resign the 
sceptres of their burning empires ! With what 
unutterable dismay will they gaze upon the 
globe itself, as it rolls along infinite space, 
blasted, and consuming- by the lightnings of 
heaven! 

Oh ! it is no fable! we urge upon you no idle 
imagination ! Already the day approaches—it is 
even “ nigh at hand ”—“ the judge standeth at 
“ the door!” The archangel is preparing to 
blow that blast, which shall “ shake terribly’ 
not only the earth, “ but also heaven!” The 
glorified saints are looking forwards with 
“ earnest expectation” to that day; and the 

k 4 


136 


/ 


spirits of the slaughtered redeemed cry, from 
under the altar, “ How long, O Lord, how 
longf All things are hastening to be placed 
under the feet of the Saviour. And then “ cometh 
“ the end”—the last, great day—the day that 
shall disclose 


“ A God in grandeur—and a world on fire ! w 

[ : ,1 f ' n rt ff< ) ' • p •{ »•( v • ’ . ;. 



;• v 




( ! 


i) 




>T 


NOTES. 


Note 1 .—Enumeration of ancient testimonies, to human longevity, 
by Josephus: Ma^TVgSat <^e rw Xoyu warn? ot EXXjjct* 

xat vrct^ct, Ba^Ca^ot? crvyf^x-i^u/xevoi r«? a^atoXoytas* xat yag y.a.i 
MatveSuv o rw ruv Ai’yvifliav Trotrjaa/^evo? ocvxy^u^‘iv, xat B^wcraoj o 
T« XaX<$aVxa crvvxyxyuv , xat Mwp^o? te, xa't Ecitato?, xat avrotf 
o At ytJ7rliog Isgu)vvp.o<;, ol t a <J>otvtxtxa avvrx^xy. Evot, avp.Quviio ‘1 rot's 
vie e/x» Xiyo^tvo tj. Hato^os te xat ExaTato?, xa\ EXXavtxos, xat 

Ax«atXaos, xat 7 rgo$ t«to 15 E^o^o?, xat NtxoXaoj, tVlo^Sa* 
ecqXjxMq ^io’xvruq stv) p^tXta. 

Joseph . Antiq. Jud. lib I. cap. 3. FoZ. J. Hudson's edit. 

I cannot find any passage in Hesiod directly specifying the years 
of the first men : but he gives a beautiful description of the golden 
age, and it’s influence in the prolongation of human life in Dieb. et 
Oper. v. 130, et seq. Hudson supposes, in his note upon this pas¬ 
sage in Josephus, that Hato5o? might be written for IatSa/^o?: “ in* 
“ telligendo Isidorum Characenum ; qui (ut constat ex Luciano de 
“ Macrobiis) in Historia sua attulit exempla regum longaevorum.” 
He says, however, that it is uniformly written HcrtoJio? in all the 
Greek manuscripts: but in the Latin, variously, Isiodus, Esiodus , 
JsiodoruSy and Isidorus. 

The reference of this note is to page 103, of the preceding Lec¬ 
ture. 

Note 2 .—Testimony of Catullus to the infamy of the old world: 

ft Sed postquam tellus scelere est imbuta nefandq, 

Justitiaraque omnes cupida de mente fugarunt; 




138 


NOTES. 


Perfudere manus fraterno sanguine fratres, 

Destitit extinctos natus lugere parentes, 

Optavit genitor primaevi funera nati, 

Liber ut innuptae potiretur flore novercae : 

Ignaro mater substernans se impia nato, 

Impia non verita est divos scelerare penates: 

Omnia fanda, nefanda malo permista furore 
Justificam nobis mentem avertere Deorum ! 

Catul. Epith. Pel. et Thet. 

But when the earth became stained with nameless wickedness , and 
divers lusts banished integrity from the mind; then , a brother's hand 
shed fraternal blood—the son ceased to deplore his deceased parents — 
the father desired the funeral of his first born—the son to enjoy his un¬ 
married step-mother—the impious mother yielding to her thoughtless 
offspring , feared not to pollute the temple of the Gods : all things , 
just and unjust , xoere thus blended together by furious passion; and 
the propitious mind of the Gods turned away from us. Can there be a 
more striking confirmation of the apostle's assertion, respecting the 
heathen world, that “ they were given over to a reprobate mind r" or 
a better comment upon the declaration of Moses, that u the earti» 
was filled with violence r" 

This extract refers to page 107, of the preceding Lecture. 


Note 3.—Testimony to the deluge, from Abydeuus, preserved by 
Eusebius: Ms$ uv JtAAot rt ^|av, k«i Zeict».$^oj, u 
f*aim pXv laecrSxi 7rA>$o<; A ecria Tripnln eth olxx. xt’Kiuti 

yruv o, r» ycxjAudruJv yv l^oixevov sv HAetf ttoA'ei rn Iv 'Lnnra.(>oiaiv 
"EticiSgot; 5e rxvrx IttiIeAeo. irovnaxcy iv§iu<; liri 'Agys- 
>tyj UVX7T Ate, y.XV ‘TtX^XvllxX ffiV xxIthxuCave rx lx §tii. T^ilvj H 
It ret rt vuv Ixo^rxcrs, pkrUi ruv c/£vi§uv } nt^nv 7roitf/>tEi/o$, s’/ ttou 
ra voxroq IxovacM' cm cig, ex.S i e%of/.evi} cr^lx; Ttehayeo*; u^cc- 

, / 5 / V / /] \ \ •/ (S >/'■'' / 

Ho$ y xito^asaxi oy.r, KocTogpr/c-ovlcu, 7 tx^x rev Zetcv-Jgov oirvain xopv- 
£orlca, xoa Itti avry cn Iregai* u ; at tv) av rfirjicn tvlvyti (a ?rwexlo 
ycc% fry] TT^Ay xaTaTrAgoi ru; rugcrisq) ©sot fiiv 1% uv^ofirruv u<pxv'^8crt’ 
to etc tt^ovov tv Agp.svlv) f irif\x r j£\x ut xXrfiitpxeixxxx rcta 


ru^ X zr°. 

Ernstb. lib. IX. Praporut. ea-p. -12. 
This extract is" translated in page’ 110, of tire preceding Lecture. 


NOTES. 


139 


'Note 4. —Assertion of Josephus, respecting the testimony of Be- 
rosus: Oi/rog r o'.vvv o B yguorog Tuig x^ypaoTccrxig B7rxxoXaBuv avoc~ 
ygoctyoctg, tb/h te T8 yBvopivs xdhxxXv<ry.3 xcci ryg iv ocvtu) (pBo^oig 
*rw» avO^dorcov, xacbocitBo M uvang 8T ug talo^yxE' xcii tte^* Trig Xucvcixcf, 
iv v Nwp^o? o tS yevag ypuiv cc^viyog ctiECuBi j, Tr^oo’BVB^Beicryg oclryg 
T oi'.g ocK^u^tioag tuv AgpBv'iwv o^uiv. 


Joseph. Coutr. Appion. lib. I. Hudson’s edit. vol. II. fol. 

He appeals also to the same evidence in his Antiq. Jud. vol. I. 
lib. i. cap. 3. Hudson’s edit. 

The testimony of Grotius respecting Ararath; <( Quos Moses 
“ Ararath vocat, Kardu transtulere Chaldzei interpretes, Cordyaeos 
“ Josephus, Cordaeos Curtins, Gordyreos scribit Strabo, lib, xvi. 
u Plinius, lib. vi. cap. 27, et Ptolemaeus.” 

Grot, de ter. Rcl. Christ. § xvi. in not. 

These extracts refer to page 111, of the preceding Lecture, where 
they are translated. 


Note 5. —Lucian’s statement of the opinions of the Grecians re¬ 
specting the character of the old world, and the destruction of it by 
a deluge: 

- Ixb'ivuv Se 7T££< ruv xvB^uttujv ra« puBsovlxi' vGgicrloct y.ccglx lovisg, 

cciitpiaict B^yoc bttqckjcov, ht e ya^ o^xix i(pvAu~crov , htb C^Bivag zds^ovlo, 
8T« ixereuv yvEixovlo, civB uv crtpiA y pByctXy avp'^o^y ctTrixUo, ccJllxct 
y yy ttoaXov vou(> txoidoi, xcii op\a^oi [AByciXoi Bysvovlo, xcii ot Trolcipot 
xoclehycnxv psi£ovsg, xcii y BdXcc<rcrci btti oroX?dv civiQy, ig o ttoIvIci 
iysvovro xca Trclvrsg cjXovto * AbvxxXicjv pSvog xvB^cjttuv bX'.tcHo ig 
yzvzyv cisvUgyv, Bv^aXiyg xxt Tyg Bvadosiccg eivbxoi' y&i oi acHy^'ty yHz 
sysvsTo * Xoi^vcixci pzyc&Xyv, ryv civlog s%e, Big ravryv laQiQcixxg Trxt - 
$ccg te, xcii yvvx'ixxg luviS, IciZy * icQa,ivovh 5e oi c&7nxovlo crvsg , xcii 
IWt roi, xdi Xeovlcov yevscc, xdi o<Qisc, xui d-XXx, oxoxx Iv yy v/povlxi, 
orccvlx ig £euysa. ’ o 7rdvlx b^b^Ho, xcii piv ux icrlvovlo * aKAa, atpi<rt 
fxtyccXy choBev (piXiy lyivflu * xcii iv yxy Xci^vxxi TrccvlBg BirXevcrocVy tg 
te to u^utg bttbx^ocIbb * roc [xlv AsvxxXiu>vog ttb^i 1 EXXyveg i cfloge&cri. 

Lucian, lib. de Dea Syria, Sj-c. 

The translation of this extract, is given in page 112, of the precech 
ing Lecture. 



140 


NOTES, 


Note 6. —Extract, from Dr. Geddes, respecting the quantity of 
water required for an universal deluge; and the sources whence it 
might be supposed to be derived. 

, “ Fifteen cubits upzcard , did the waters prevail; and the moun- 
“ tains were covered. This has been always accounted one of the 
u most unaccountable phenomena of the deluge; and has, more than 
“ any other circumstance attending it, perplexed and puzzled com- 
u mentators. The most ingenious solution of the difficulty which 1 
“ have ever met with, is one sent to me, some years ago, by Sir 
“ Henry Englefield, which I shall here give in his own words: 

4 The diameter of the earth being taken at 8000 miles; and the 
e highest mountain being supposed four miles high above the level of 
‘ the sea*, the quantity of water requisite to cover them, will be 

* an hollow sphere of 8008 miles diameter, and four miles thick ; the 
1 content of which, in round numbers, is 800,000,000 cubic miles,— 
e Let us now suppose the globe of the earth to consist of a crust of 
1 solid matter, 1000 miles thick, enclosing a sea, or body of water, 

* 2000miles deep; within which is a central nucleus of 2000 miles in 
t diameter: the content of that body of water wall be 109,200,000,000 

* cubic miles; or about 137 times the quantity of water required to 
1 cover the surface of the earth as above stated. Now water, by ex- 
4 periment, expands about one 23th of it's whole magnitude, from 

* freezing to boiling; or one hundredth of it’s magnitude for 45 de- 

* grees of Fahrenheit’s thermometer. Suppose, then, that the heat 
*■ of the globe, previously to the deluge, was about 50 degrees of 
‘ Fahreqheit’s, a temperature very near that of this climate; and 
< that a sudden change took place in the interior of the globe, which 

* raised it’s height to 83 degrees; an heat no greater than the ma- 

* rine animals live in, in the shallow seas between the tropics; those 
1 23 degrees of augmented heat would so expand the internal sea, 

1 as to cause it to more than cover the surface of the globe, accord- 

* iiig to the conditions above-mentioned: and if the cause of heat 
‘ ceased, the waters would of course, in cooling, retire into their 

* proper places.—If the central nucleus be supposed 3000 miles, and 

* the internal sea only 1500 miles deep, it’s content will then be 


* “ This is more than the height of the Andes.” 





NOTES. 


141 


1 99,200,000,000 cubic miles; or, 125 times the water required: and 
e in that case, an additional heat of 36 degrees to the previous tem- 
‘ perature of the earth, will be sufficient to produce the above-de- 
1 scribed effect.—It is scarce necessary to say, that the perfect re- 

* gularity here supposed to exist in the form of the interior parts of 
‘ the globe, is of no consequence to the proposed hypothesis; which 

will be equally just, if the above-given quantity of waters be any 
how disposed within the earth.—Neither is it here proposed to dis¬ 
cuss the reality of a central fire, which many philosophers main- 
4 tain, and many deny.—It may not be unworthy to remark, that 
4 the above hypothesis, which does not in any way contradict any 
4 law of nature, does singularly accord with the Mosaic narrative of 
4 the deluge : for the sudden expansion of the internal waters would, 
( of course, force them up through the chasms of the exterior crust, 
4 in dreadful jets and torrents; while their heat would cause such 

* vapours to ascend into the atmosphere, as, when condensed, 
4 would produce torrents of rain beyond our conception/ 

44 The possibility of an universal deluge, then ; of a deluge rising 
44 fifteen cubits above the. highest mountains , can hardly be denied. It 
44 is not at all necessary to suppose, with Sir Henry, that the ante- 
44 diluvial) mountains were as high as those of the present earth. 
44 They may have been of a very different form and size, and com- 
44 posed of other materials.” 

Dr. Geddes, vol. I. Crit. Rem. on Gen. vii. 20, &~c. 

After all, this great critic, as usual, labours to lower the Mosaic 
account; and thinks, 44 that a great deal of the fabulous is mixed 
“ with the history of Noah’s flood.” The humble opinion of the 
writer of these Lectures, differs widely from him, in this respect; 
and he is satisfied with taking this ingenious hypothesis, which even 
Dr. Geddes admits, proves such a deluge possible, without accepting 
bis concluding observations. 

This extract refers to page 123, of the preceding Lecture. 

Note 7.— Experiment by the Bishop of Landaff, on the quantity 
of water exhaled from the earth on a summer’s day: 

44 Who w'ould have conjectured, that an acre of ground, even 
44 after having been parched by the heat of the sun in summer, dis- 
<f persed into the air, above 1600 gallons of water, in the space of 


142 


NOTES. 


« twelve of the hottest hours of the day ? No vapour is seen to as- 
« cend ; and we little suppose, that in the hottest part of the day, 
« it more usually does ascend than in any other. The experiment 
“ from which I draw this conclusion, is so easy to be made, that 
(< every one may satisfy himself of the truth of it. On the 2d day of 
te June, 1779, when the sun shone bright and hot, I put a large 
“ drinking glass, with ids mouth downwards, upon a grass-plat which 
« was mown close; there had been no rain for above a month, and 
“ the grass was become brown: in less than two minutes, the inside 
u of the glass was clouded with a vapour, and, in half an hour, drops 
“ of water began to trickle down it’s inside, in various places. 
« This experiment was repeated several times w ith the same success. 

“ That I might accurately estimate the quantity, thus raised, in 
“ any certain portion of time, I measured the area of the mouth of 
u the glass, and found it to be twenty square inches: there are 129(5 
u square inches in a square yard, and 4840 square yards in a statute 
i( acre; hence, if we can find the means of measuring the quantity, 
u of vapour raised from twenty square inches of earth, suppose in 
“ one quarter of an hour, it will be an easy matter to calculate the 
u quantity which would be raised, with the same degree of heat, 
“ from an acre in twelve hours. The method I took to measure 
et the quantity of vapour, was not, perhaps, the most accurate which 
“ might be thought of, but it was simple and easy to be practised: 
<l when the glass had stood on the grass-plat one quarter of an hour, 
t( and had collected a quantity of vapour, I wiped it's inside with 
u a piece of muslin, the weight of which had been previously taken ; 
u as soon as the glass was wiped dry, the muslin was weighed again, 
tc it’s increase of w’eight shewed the quantity of vapour which had 
“ been collected. The medium increase of weight, from several 
(i experiments made on the same day, between twelve and three 
“ o’clock, was six grains, collected in one quarter of an hour, from 
u twenty square inches of earth. If the reader takes the trouble to 
“ make the calculation, he will find, that above 1600 gallons, reckon- 
iC ing eight pints to a gallon, and estimating the weight of a pint of 
i( water at one pound avoirdupois, or 7000 grains Troy-weight, 
“ would be raised, at the rate here mentioned, from an acre of 
“ ground, in twenty-four hours. 

“ It may easily be conceived, that the quantity thus elevated, will 
u be greater when the ground has been well soaked with rain, pro- 


NOTES. 


143 


u vided the heat be the same. I did not happen to mark the heat of 
“ the ground, when I made the fore-mentioned experiments. The 
xi two following, are more circumstantial: the ground had been 
“ wetted, the day before I made them, by a thunder-shower; 
<( the heat of the earth, at the time of making them, estimated 
u by a thermometer laid upon the grass, was ninety-six de- 
u grees; one experiment gave 1973 gallons from an acre in twelve 
iC hours; the other gave 1905.—Another experiment, made when 
u there had been no rain for a week, and the heat of the earth was 
u one hundred and ten degrees, gave after the rate of 2800 gallons 
from an acre in twelve hours. The earth was hotter than the air, 
u as it was exposed to the reflection of the sun’s rays from a brick 
“ wall.” 

Watson’s Chemical Essays , tol. 3, p. 52—56. 

This quotation bears reference to page 124, of the preceding Lec¬ 
ture. 


144 


LECTURE IV. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF BABEL, THE CON¬ 
FUSION OF LANGUAGE, THE DISPER¬ 
SION OF THE PEOPLE, AND THE ORI¬ 
GIN OF NATIONS. 


GEN. XI. 1—9- 

And the whole earth was of one language, and of 
one speech. And it came to pass, as they jour¬ 
neyed from the east, that they found a plain in 
the land of Shinar ; and they dwelt there. And 
they said one to another, Go to, let us make 
brick, and burn them throughly. And they had 
brick for stone, and slime had they for mortar. 
And they said, Go to, let us build us a city and 
a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven; and 
let us make us a name , lest ice be scattered 
abroad upon the face of the whole earth. And 
the Lord came down to see the city and the 
tower, which the children of men builded. And 




145 


the Lord said , Behold , the people is one , and 
they have all one language; and this begin to 
do: and now nothing will be restrained from 
then?, which they have imagined to do. Go to, 
let us go down , and there confound their lan¬ 
guage, that they may not understand one ano¬ 
ther s speech. So the Lord scattered them 
abroad from thence upon the face of all the 
earth: and they left off to build the city. There¬ 
fore is the name of it called Babel; because the 
Lord did there confound the language of all 
the earth : and from thence did the Lord scat¬ 
ter them abroad upon the face of all the earth. 

OBADIAH, 3 & 4. 

The pride of thine heart hath deceived thee, thou 
that dwellest in the clefts of the rock, whose 
habitation is high ; that saith in his heart, Who 
shall bring me down to the ground? Though 
thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and though thou 
set thy rest among the stars, thence will I 
bring thee down, saith the Lord. 


We left Noah floating, with his faimily, 
upon the bosom of an overwhelming deluge, 
which had exhausted the fountains of the deep, 


146’ 


to wash away the stains of guilt from the sur¬ 
face of the earth. We are now to accompany 
tliis favoured family, from the ark that pre¬ 
served them, to the wasted, deserted plains, 
once more visible. What an interesting pic¬ 
ture, does the sacred historian present, to the 
eye of the imagination ! Behold, an altar erected 
—a family surrounding it—the rainbow extend¬ 
ing it’s sublime arch across the face of heaven-— 
and the Eternal himself appealing to it, as the 
seal of a gracious covenant, and a pledge of 
security to the human race ! On the one hand, ( 
may be seen the ark on the elevation of Mount 
Ararath: on the other, strewed thick and sad, 
the mournful remains of those who had perished 
by the waters. All is silent—while the patriarch 
adores his omnipotent Preserver; and presents 
his sacrifice, with the mingled emotions of pity, 
of gratitude, and of faith. 

—Of Pity. Could lie view the scene of 
desolation around him, without suffering one 
tear of compassion to fall? Impossible! And 
well might a patriarch's bosom entertain this 
divine and generous principle, when she takes 
up her residence, a welcome guest, in heaven ! 
She throws her softest tints over those blissful 
regions, without impairing either their beauty 
or their tranquillity; and sheds her sweetest 
balm upon their inhabitants, without destroy- 


1 147 

ing cither their happiness or tlieir repose. Her 
lily is interwoven with the roses which form 
celestial garlands; and her drops of compassion 
mingle with the tears of exquisite delight, 
which glitter in immortal eyes. She takes up 
her lasting abode in the bosom of the Son of 
God. She conducted the Saviour through every 
trying scene which he witnessed, in his pas¬ 
sage through this valley of tears. “ He wept 
“ with those that wept;” and “ in all our af- 
“ flictions he was afflicted.” She accompanied 
him every step of his journey; and placed her 
chaplet of cypress upon his conquering head, 
when he expired on Calvery. In proportion 
as we possess the spirit of Jesus, we shall be¬ 
come the companions of pity. She will teach us 
to bind up the broken heart: to wipe away the 
tear from the eye of sorrow; and to pour the 
oil and the wine of sympathy, into the wounded 
bosom. O Religion! how have thy adversaries 
slandered thee, when they represent thee, as 
hardening the heart! Christianity instructs us 
to “ love our enemies:” teaches those to weep, 
who never wept before; softens the obdurate 
spirit; melts down the ferocious disposition; 
controuls the furious passions; quickens the 
sensibilities of nature; transforms the instru¬ 
ments of cruelty, into implements of husbandry; 
becomes the strongest, and most permanent, 

l 2 


148 


bond of society; and, in every point of view, 
meliorates the condition of humanity. 

— Of Gratitude. As the patriarch had 
seen, with sorrow, the destruction of the world, 
he was preserved, in mercy, to behold the 
renovation of it. His consecrated ark had 
floated safely, during the prevalence of the 
waters; and now, that they were abated, he 
descended from it, upon the face of nature, 
smiling, as a bride newly adorned. He received 
from Him, who is the Sovereign Disposer of 
all events, a promise, that the serene sky 
should lower no more to destroy ; and that the 
hand that balanced the poles of heaven, should 
roll the seasons round in their order. “ I will 
“ establish my covenant with you; neither 
“ shall all flesh be cut off' any more by the 
“ waters of a flood." “ While the earth re- 
“ main?th, seed-time and harvest, cold and 
“ heat, and summer and winter, and day and 
“ night, shall not cease/’ With the distinction 
which had been made between himself and his 
family, and the whole human race, in a moment 
of punishment so signal, fresh in his memory; 
and with these words of mercy sounding in his 
ears; surely, lie could not but kneel before his 
altar with gratitude. It is gratitude which 
tunes the harps of heaven, and touches them 
with the finger of harmony. And when gra- 


149 

titude was extinguished in the bosoms of “ a 
“ third part" of the sons of God, the order of 
heaven was deranged, the harmony of heaven 
was suspended, the symphonies of heaven were 
silenced; war first reared his hideous form, 
hell first received existence, and angels became 
demons. Nor can this sacred principle be an¬ 
nihilated in any bosom, excepting those over 
which Satan holds undivided empire. It could 
not, therefore, be excluded the heart of Noah.” 

—Of Faitii. There extended the seal of 
the covenant over the retiring cloud. “ He 
“ believed ; and it was counted to him for 
“ righteousness.” He saw the fidelity of God, 
sparkling in the brilliant colours, formed by 
the ra}s of the sun, falling upon the descend¬ 
ing shower. And did he not look forwards to 
Him, wlio should finally remove the curse, plant 
“ a rain-bow round about the throne,” and 
“ make all things new ?” Surely, he, from 
whom a new world was to spring, was not suf¬ 
fered to remain ignorant of the Redeemer of 
fallen man ! He remembered the promise, that 
“ the 4 seed’ of the woman should bruise the 
“ head of the serpentand his sacrifice as¬ 
cended with acceptance, because he beheld in 
the type, with the eye of faith, Jesus, the 
great antitype. 

l 3 


150 


Did Noah find acceptance in raising an altar 
to God, and in collecting his family around it? 
Every good man may avail himself of the same 
privilege, enjoy the same intercourse, and find 
the same acceptance. Every Christian family will 
have an altar consecrated to the Deity; before 
which, they will esteem it their duty, their pri¬ 
vilege, and their happiness, to bow; and around 
which, they will assemble, to present their 
morning and evening sacrifice of prayer and 
thanksgiving. Permit me to press the ques¬ 
tion. Fathers of families! have you a family- 
altar? Do you statedly, and constantly, bring 
your children, and your household, to a throne 
of grace, and present them before God? Do 
you mingle your praise, and your supplications, 
as the morning pours a flood of light upon your 
habitation, and the evening stretches her sha¬ 
dows over it ? No “ flaming sword, turning 
“ every way,” guards, from access, the throne 
of God : no darkness, and thunder, forbid your 
near approach. A voice, from the most ex¬ 
cellent glory, proclaims, “ Draw near, with 
“ boldness, to the throne of grace; that ye may 
“ obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time 
“ of need.” To this invitation, is added a com¬ 
mand “ for all these things, I will be en- 
“ treated.” And woe to the man, who lives in 
the habitual neglect of this command, and 


151 


keeps . his household back from God: for he 
will “ pour out his fury upon the nations that 
“ worship him not, and upon the families that 
“ call not upon his name!” 

Noah having built an altar, and gratefully 
surrounded it with his family, received the di¬ 
vine blessino* on himself and his household, 

O 

Permission was granted to man, for the first 
time, to eat, not only the produce of the 
ground, but flesh also. Then also, was im¬ 
pressed upon the brute creation, that fear of 
him, which the revolution of thousands of years 
has not been able to efface. “ And the fear 
“ of you, and the dread of you, shall be upon 
“ every beast of the earth, and upon every 
“ fowl of the air, upon all that moyeth upon 
the earth, and upon all the fishes of the sea; 
into your hand are they delivered.” To this 
hour, there are few among the beasts of prey 
which roam the forest, that will not avoid the 
sight of even an unarmed man: unless driven 
to desperation by hunger, or provoked to mad¬ 
ness by pursuit. The noble, majestic lion, loses 
his native fierceness, in proportion as he dwells 
near human habitations. The horse, the ox, 
the elephant, unconscious of their strength, 
are easily disciplined, and freely lend their 
powers, to serve their more feeble master. And 
this impress of God, this fear of man, remains 

l 4 


152 


undi mini shed to the present moment. Upon 
this occasion also, the first denunciation against 
murder was issued. “ Whoso sheddeth man*s 
“ blood, by man shall his blood be shed : for in 
“ the image of God made he man.’* This 
solemn institution was confirmed, ratified, and 
enforced in the laws of Moses : and it has 
ever formed a fundamental law, in all civilized, 
and well-regulated states. 

We have long dwelt with pleasure upon 
Noah's piety: we are now to unveil his weak¬ 
ness. The characters portrayed in this volume 
are not perfect characters : otherwise they would 
not be men; neither would the history of their 
P ii grimage afford any solace to us in this vale 
of desertion and misery. For, alas ! every day 
too sadly evinces that we are imperfect charac-. 
ters ; every day discloses to our astonished eyes! 
some new trait of ingratitude, of disobedience, 
of sloth, and of depravity. It would be no 
consolation to us, to be informed, that God is I 
now preserving their a eyes from tears,” and 
their “ feet from falling,” for ever. “ Ah, that 
“ may well be true”—would be our answer— 
“ for their faith was always in lively exercise: 

“ their hope was never shaken: their zeal al- 
“ ways burned with inextinguishable purity: 

“ their love never waxed cold. No difficulties 
“ impeded them: no enemies vanquished them: 


153 


no dangers affrighted them: no considera- 
“ tions deterred them from running, with holy 
“ alacrity, the race that was set before them. 
“ £ Therefore are they before the throne of 
“ 4 God, and serve him day and night in his 
££ £ temple: and he, that sitteth on the throne, 
“ ‘ shall dwell among them!’ But tee are ever 
“ ready to turn aside. At best, we advance, 
“ ‘ faint, yet pursuing.’ With wavering hopes, 
“ and a trembling faith; with languishing af- 
££ fections, and perplexing fear; we hardly 
££ reach forwards to our home; and are inces- 
“ santly apprehensive, lest we should event- 
££ ually fall short of it f But what, if we should 
prove to you, that these were characters imper¬ 
fect as yourselves ? Many spots soiled their white 
raiment, while they walked through this world : 
many blemishes stain their memory. Yet ££ are 
££ they before the throne of God,” for your 
encouragement; and as monuments of his 
mercy, whose grace shall finally make you 
more than conquerors over your corruptions, 
and your enemies. In the mean time, observe, 
that as they were subject to your imperfections, 
they also, while upon earth, participated your 
chastisements, and were exposed to similar 
calamities with yourselves. — Behold, then, 
this great man, this good man, overtaken by 
the sin of drunkenness! On this occasion, one 


154 


of liis sons forgot that filial sympathy which 
should cover a parent’s imperfections, and 
which warmed the bosom of his brethren : in 
consequence of which, Ham drew down upon 
himself, and upon his family, his fathers curse; 
while a blessing, soft as the dew, descended 
upon the heads of Shem and of Japheth, and 
upon their posterity. 

At length, we arrive at that eventful period, 
which is the winding up of the longest history: 
“ all the days of Noah, were nine hundred and 
“ fifty years —and he died / 7 Six hundred years 
of his life were passed upon the face of the 
old world; and three hundred and fifty, he 
walked upon the ground of the new one. Threck 
hundred and sixty-five days, had he floated 
upon the surface of a boundless ocean : rescued 
with his family from destruction; and bearing 
with him this testimony, “ that he pleased 
“ God." This, it was, that encircled his hoary 
head with a diadem of glory : he was “ found in 
“ the way of righteousness The longest life, 
is but as “ yesterday, when it is passed £ but 
“ Noah walked with God"—with that Beina* 
whose days are commensurate with the ages of 
eternity; and who first provided for him, and 
afterwards bestowed upon him, an unfading in¬ 
heritance. 


w. ■ WF • 

When the sacred writer had conducted the 
venerable patriarch to his last., peaceful retreat 
—the grave; he favours us with a genealogy 
of his descendants. As his history particularly 
concerned the Israelites, he has given us the 
line of Shem entire ; and his only. As to the 
offspring of the other sons of Noah, his design 
appears to have been, merely to bring them 
down to the dispersion of the people; in order 
to leave to posterity the names of the first 
founders of nations ; and then to dismiss them. 
Hence, although he mentions the Canaanites, 
as a people with whom the Israelites were con¬ 
cerned, yet he deduces the genealogy of Ham 
no farther; and it is shorter than those of Cush 
and Mizraim, by one generation. 

The predictions of Noah were remarkably 
fulfilled: but to unfold the various events in 
correspondence with them, were, of itself, the 
labour of a lecture; and indeed belongs to the 
department of scriptural prophecy. He had 
said, “ Cursed be Canaan*, a servant of ser- 
“ vants shall he be to his brethren.” This was 
fulfilled in the reduction of the Canaanites, the 
immediate descendants of Canaan, by the Is- 


* It is a singularity in this prophecy, that Ham was cursed in the 
name of his youngest son, Canaan. 




156 


raelites, the posterity of Shem. It was again 
fulfilled, in the subjugation of the Egyptians, 
the descendants of Ham; both by the Persians, 
the posterity of Shem; and by the Grecians, 
the offspring of Japheth. Tyre was built by 
the Sidonians, the descendants of Ham; and 
was twice subdued, and at length wholly deso¬ 
lated, by the posterity of his brethren. The 
Carthaginians were descendants of Ham: the 
Romans, who subdued them, derived their 
line from Japheth. The whole continent of 
Africa, was peopled, for the most part, by the 
children of Ham : it is become the mart of the 
whole world for slavery; and the Europeans, 
the oppressors of this wretched people, are the 
posterity of Japheth.—The blessing pronounced 
upon Shem, was, “ Blessed be the Lord God of 
“ Shemor rather, “ Blessed of the Lord my 
“ God, be Shem ; and Canaan shall be his ser- 
“ vant.” Shem was peculiarly blessed in two 
respects: the Church of God was among the 
posterity of Shem, for many generations; and 
from him, “ according to the flesh," the Messiah 

came.-Of Japheth, he said, “ God shall en- 

“ large Japheth." All Europe; the lesser Asia; 
Media; a part of Armenia; Iberia; Albania; 
the wide regions of the North, once in the 
hands of the Scythians, now inhabited by the 
Tartars; India and China; and, probably, the 





157 

continent of America; are the possessions of 
Japheth. Farther, “ He shall dwell in the 
u tents of Shem.” This seems to allude to the 
unions, which sometimes took place, between 
the posterity of these brethren, when they con¬ 
jointly fought against the descendants of Ham. 
There have been some exceptions, when the 
descendants of Ham have subdued those of 
Shem, and of Japheth ; but, in general, Ham 
has been the servant of his brethren : and it 
is worthy remark, that the four grand empires 
of the world, the Assyrian, the Persian, the 
Grecian, and the Roman, descended, the two 
former from Shem, and the two latter from 
Japheth*. 

We are afterwards introduced to Nimrod, 
who is called “ a mighty hunter before the 
Lord." Commentators have been greatly di¬ 
vided respecting this extraordinary personage: 
since, the words of Moses may be taken in a 
good or a bad sense. There is nothing in his 
short history, bearing the least reproach; except, 
indeed, his name, which signifies a rebel. Enough, 
however, is said to render it evident that he 
grasped at empire ; and obtained it. Some 


* See Newton on the Prophecies; vol. I. Dissertation 1. Noah's 
Prophecy. 







158 


ascribe to him the project of building Babel; 
which, considering his enterprising disposition, 
so far as we can judge of it, from the short 
narrative of the sacred writer, is not improba¬ 
ble. Others say, that he left the country, be¬ 
cause he would not consent to the scheme; 
which, for the reason we have assigned, we do 
not think at all likely. And not a few con- 
elude, that he was, at that period, very young. 

Having passed over the link of history which 
connects the deluge with the present subject of 
discussion; we hasten to the immediate object 
of our meeting at this time: to consider the 
fact— The destruction of Babel; connected 
with the confusion of language ; and 
the dispersion of the people; and thence 
to trace, the origin of nations. We shall 
aim simply, To illustrate and establish this 
event; and to deduce from it some considera¬ 
tions adapted to our individual improvement. 
We shall attempt, 


i. to illustrate, and to establish, the 

EVENT. 

In order to which, it will be necessary to 
consider the several parts of the history, as re¬ 
corded by Moses: to produce the testimony of 


159 

other ancient writers; and to answer some en¬ 
quiries which may arise from the subject. We 
shall consider, 

1. The several parts of the history, as 

RECORDED BY MOSES. 

V. 1. “ And the whole earth was of one lan¬ 
guage, and of one speech .” Speech is the vehicle 
of communication, by which one man trans¬ 
mits his thoughts to another ; nor shall we bur¬ 
den your attention in tracing it’s origin; an en¬ 
quiry which, we think, would lead us up to 
God himself. We take it for granted, without 
wasting the time in frivolous discussion, accord¬ 
ing to the literal meaning of the express words 
of Moses, that “ the whole earth was of one 
<c language, and of one speech.” But it may 
be expected, that something should be said, 
respecting the primitive tongue—this universal 
language spoken by our fathers, before the con¬ 
fusion of speech. In addition to those lan¬ 
guages, which are commonly known by the 
title Oriental, the Armenian, the Celtic, the 
Coptic, the Greek, the Teutonic, and the Chi¬ 
nese, demand the preference on this point. The 
Armenian, the Celtic, and the Coptic, come 
before us laden with the venerable marks of 
hoary antiquity; and the former builds it’s 
claim upon the resting of the ark on its moun¬ 
tains. The Greek appeals to it’s extent and 


160 


copiousness. Some have attempted to derive 
the Hebrew itself from the Teutonic. The argil- 
ments produced in favour of the Chinese, are 
principally, the antiquity of that nation: their 
early acquaintance with the arts and sciences : 
their separation, in all ages, from all other na¬ 
tions : and the singularity of the language 
itself; which consists of few words, all mono¬ 
syllables, and is remarkable for it’s simplicity, 
having no variety of declensions, conjugations, 
or grammatical rules. These singularities have 
been deemed strong marks in it’s behalf, as the 
original language: besides the presumption that 
Noah was the founder of the Chinese nation. 
Each of the Oriental languages have strenuous 
supporters: but the palm is more generally 
awarded to the Syriac. The Jews warmly de¬ 
fend the Hebrew tongue ; and refer to the ety¬ 
mologies of the names transmitted to us by 
Moses. In some instances the sacred historian 
himself has marked their propriety, and the re¬ 
lation which they bear to the person, or place 
designed by them : but there are others, not so 
distinguished, in which no such relation can be 
traced; and the question to be decided is, whe¬ 
ther he has preserved the original terms, or, ac¬ 
cording to the practice of all ancient writers, 
accomodated them to the dialect of the lan¬ 
guage in which he wrote ? The most probable 


361 

conclusion, from this endless diversity of opi¬ 
nion, is—either that the original language is 
lost; or that it is spoken under variations which 
render it equivalent to a new tongue; or, that, 
even supposing it to exist, it cannot be ascer¬ 
tained. 

V. 2. “ And it came to pass , as they jour ~ 
“ 7ieyed from the east , that they found a plain in 
“ the land cf Shinar ; and they dzcelt there!' The 
extent and situation of the land of Shinar, is 
not easily determined. There, the city and 
tower of Babel were erected. Thither, Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar carried away the vessels of the tem¬ 
ple, to the house of his god: which, in all pro¬ 
bability, was the temple of Belus, in Babylon. 
This confirms the general opinion, that the tem¬ 
ple of Belus was erected upon the ruins of the 
tower of Babel; or, at least, that Babylon stood 
upon, or near, the spot, where this vast design 
was projected, and partly executed. The part 
of Mesopotamia, chosen by the astronomers, in 
the time of the Khalifah al Mamum, for mea¬ 
suring the content of a degree of a great circle, 
was the desert of Senjar ; the nature of the ex¬ 
periment required the selection of a large and 
level country; and this is probably a part of 




1 62 


the ancient plain of Shinaar*. Upon the whole, 
we will venture to call it Chaldea. 

Y. 3 and 4. “ And they said one to another, 

“ Go to, let us make brick, and burn them 
“ throughly . And they had brick for stone, and 
“ slime had they for mortar . And they said, Go 
“ to, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top 
“ may reach unto heaven ; and let us make us a 
“ name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the 
“ face of the whole earth.'' It has been ima¬ 
gined by some, that this elevation was reared 
in fear of a second deluge : we deem this im¬ 
probable, from their choice of situation, and 
because other, and sufficient, motives, are as¬ 
signed in the history. The celebrated and elo¬ 
quent Saurin says : “ The impressions which 
“ the waters of the deluge had made upon the 
<c imagination of Noah, and of his family, 
“ caused them to live in places the most ele- 
“ vated, and the least accessible to inunda- 
“ tions. They dwelt upon the mountains of 
“ Armenia, in the neighbourhood of that place 
cc where the ark rested. But an hundred and 
“ forty-four years afterwards; according to the 
“ computation of one of the most celebrated 


* Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. I. book i. chap. 2. The reader may 
find much learned discussion, on all the points under review in this 
part of the Lecture, iu that laborious work. 




163 


“ chronologists; these fears were intirely dis- 
“ persed: they diffused themselves over the 
“ vallies and the fields; and occupied the plains 
“ of Chaldea, or of Babylon*.” Had they de¬ 
signed this tower as a bulwark against a se¬ 
cond deluge, they would have chosen an ele¬ 
vated country, rather than a plain. Two rea¬ 
sons are assigned, in their consultation, for this 
project: 

1. That they might make themselves a name: 
that they might leave a memorial behind them. 
The desire of living in the remembrance of 
posterity, and of securing an immortal renown, 
has burnt with inextinguishable ardour, in 
the human bosom, in every age. Absalom set 
up for himself a pillar; because he had “ no son” 
to “ keep his name in remembrance.” The prin¬ 
ciple which laid the foundation of the tower 
of Babel, raised the lofty pyramids of Egypt; 
has reared many a proud city; and, more than 
once, has turned the world into “ a field of 
“ blood.” 

2. That they might not be dispersed: “ lest 
6i we be scattered abroad upon the face of the 
H whole earth.” Their project to live together, 
opposed the manifest design of Deity, that the 


* See note 1, at the end of this Lecture, 

M 


o 




164 


whole earth should be speedily peopled. Some 
have translated the words—“ Let us make us 
“ a sign , lest we be scatteredand conclude 
that they intended this tower to serve as a 
beacon, or mark, by the direction of which, 
they might avoid straying with their flocks, 
(for the first men were shepherds) and regain 
the city, which they had chosen for their resi¬ 
dence, after the temporary wanderings required 
by their occupations. The result of their con¬ 
sultations, whatever were their motives, was 
the commencement of that stupendous work— 
the tower of Babel. 

Respecting the tower itself, Moses informs 
us, that “ they used brick instead of stone, 
“ and slime instead of mortar.” This slime, 
was a pitchy substance, called bitumen , which 
abounded in the neighbourhood of Babylon; 
and, forming a strong cement, was admirably 
adapted to their purpose. It is universally ad¬ 
mitted, that the tower had it's ascent on the 
outside*—a broad road gradually winding round 
it: of course, the tower itself grew proportion- 
ably narrow as it increased in height, and as¬ 
sumed a spiral form. If you imagine a path, 
winding round the representations which are 
made of the pyramids of Egypt, you will form 
a complete idea, of the general description* 
transmitted to us, of the tower of Babel. 


165 


V. 5 — 9- “ And the Loud came dozen to see 

the city and the tozvcr, which the children of 
u men badded. And the Lord said, Behold, the 
“ people is one, and they have all one language; 

and this they begin to do: and now nothing zvill 
“ be restrained from them zchich they have ima- 
“ gined to do. Go to, let us go dozen, and there 
“ co)found their language, that they may not un- 
“ derstand one another s speech. So the Lord 
“ scattered them abroad from thence upon the face 
“ of all the earth: and they left off to build the 
“ city. Therefore is the name of it called Babel; 
“ because the Lord did there confound the lan - 
“ gauge of all the earth : and from thence did the 
“ Lord scatter them abroad upon the face of all 
“ the earthw There is a merciful condescension 
to be perceived in all parts of the sacred writ¬ 
ings, in stooping to our conceptions, by the 
use of familiar terms, and of language con¬ 
tinually on our own lips. Had the inspired 
penmen been commissioned, at all times, to 
represent things as they really are, we should 
have derived no benefit from their communi¬ 
cations : we should have had words, but not 
ideas : we should have been incessantly floating 
on the surface of uncertainty, bewildered, and 
lost, in the loftiness of the subject. But God 
speaks to us, as though he were “ bone of our 
“ bone, and flesh of our fleshhe enters into 

m 3 


166 


all our passions : he uses our language: he brings 
down heavenly subjects to the standard of our 
comprehension. In travelling through the land 
of scripture discovery, we are at home; we are 
surrounded by objects, and encompassed with 
imagery, perfectly familiar to us; and “ a way- 
“ faring man, though a fool, cannot err therein.’* 
The consequence is, that this volume is found 
to speak to the heart: it “ approves itself to 
“ every man’s conscience it possesses an irre¬ 
sistible influence over his life, while it descends 
to the level of his understanding. Because we 
have no conception of pure spirit—spirit distinct 
from matter—or of it's powers—or of it’s agen¬ 
cy—or of it’s operations—the Deity is repre¬ 
sented as acting like a man. We read of his 
penetrating eye; his powerful hand; his ma¬ 
jestic voice; his trackless footsteps; his melting 
bowels ; his compassionate heart. Pie is angry: 
he relents: he loves : he entreats. lie ascends 
and descends; he rides upon the clouds; he 
walks through the earth. He is a father—and 
he has a father’s heart. He manifests paternal 
anxiety—paternal affection—paternal superin¬ 
tendence—paternal displeasure—paternal for¬ 
giveness. Every one feels the force of the 
image; every one sees in himself, the ungrate¬ 
ful, perverse child; every one understands his 
relation to God, and acknowledges the obliga- 


167 

tions under which he is laid to him. The ima¬ 
gery renders every thing luminous: while the 
representation of facts as they are — a Being 
without passions, and without any resemblance 
to any one object with which we are acquaint¬ 
ed—would overwhelm the mind with perplex¬ 
ity, and overshadow the subject with impene¬ 
trable darkness. Of the class described, is the 
passage before us: in it are many bold figures 
of speech ; for the Eternal fills all space with 
his presence, and can neither ascend nor de¬ 
scend; and when such language is used, it is 
in accommodation to our conceptions, and to 
our modes of speaking. 

The work was displeasing to God; and the 
source of his displeasure was, that it opposed 
his express command, “ replenish the earth 
which could not be done while they continued 
in one place. In order to scatter them abroad, 
he compelled them to relinquish their project, 
by confounding their language: from which cir¬ 
cumstance, the city and tower took the name of 
Babel , which signifies confusion. 

The confusion of language, became the 
means of the destruction of Babel: and from 
it’s importance and consequences, is an event 
worthy the place which it occupies, in the Mo¬ 
saic history. As to the manner in which it was 
effected, as in every subject so remote and urn 

m 4 


168 


determined by the historian himself, there is a 
diversity of sentiment. Some suppose that the 
Words only imply a misunderstanding among 
the builders; and that he set them at variance, 
by causing a division of counsel. Others un¬ 
derstand by them a temporary confusion of 
speech; causing them to misapply terms, and 
misconceive each other, in the use of the same 
language. Others are of opinion, that a variety 
of inflexions were introduced, and perhaps some 
new words; which disturbed and perverted the 
former manner of expression. But the plain 
and express terms of the history go beyond 
these hypotheses ; it is evident that the inspired 
historian designs to exhibit a complete confu¬ 
sion of tongues; which will account for the 
endless diversity of languages, and the source 
of the division of mankind into different and 
distinct nations. There are languages which 
have no visible connection with any other 
tongue whatever; and the Chinese is an exem¬ 
plification of our assertion. This could never 
have been, had the confusion consisted of a 
mere variation of dialect; and we wish it to be 
understood, as our decided opinion, that at the 
destruction of Babel, new r languages were 
framed; and this by the miraculous and imme¬ 
diate interposition of divine power. 


169 

The DISPERSION OF THE PEOPLE, which fol¬ 
lowed, we do not imagine was a disorganization 
ot the whole mass of mankind, as a tempest 
terrifies and scatters a multitude : but simply a 
division of them; as at the quiet separation of 
an orderly assembly, every man falls into his 
respective party, and seeks his home. Every 
man, it is probable, betook himself to the com¬ 
pany that spake his own new language; and 
consented, with them, to separate from others. 
We think that this is implied by the language 
which Moses adopts, in speaking of the division 
of the earth by the several bands. Of the sons 
of Japheth, it is said—“ By these, were the 
“ isles of the Gentiles divided.” Respecting 
the descendants of Ham, he concludes, “ These 
“ are the sons of Ham, after their families, 
“ after their tongues, in their countries, in their 
“ nations;” unquestionably referring to their 
situation after their dispersion. The same lan- 
o’uao’e is used in relation to Shem. Nothing: 

o o o 

here wears the appearance of hurry and dis¬ 
order : on the contrary, the inference appears 
to us to be, that the dispersion of the people 
was regular, and the division of the earth per¬ 
formed without confusion. 

With respect to the origin of nations, 
at this distance of time from the great event, 
little can be said with certainty, A mere out- 


line of the larger divisions can only be made ; 
and this, with scarcely any degree of precision. 
Shem, appears, for the remainder of his days, 
to have hovered about the plains of Shinar. 
From his descendants, sprang the inhabitants 
of Persia*, Ninevehf, ChinaJ, Mesopotamia, and 
Phrygia; comprehending the countries west¬ 
ward of Assyria, as far as the Mediterranean!!. 
Ham, probably, dwelt in Egypt. His descend¬ 
ants occupied Shinaar§, Arabia^, Ethiopia**, 
Africaj'j', Phenicia, and the land of Canaan;^. 
When Japheth left Babel, it is uncertain where 
he settled. His descendants dwelt in Phrygia||||, 
the eastern part of Asia Minor§§, Cappadocia, 
and Galatia^. Most of these divisions, after 
all, must be considered as conjectural***. So 
far we have followed the Mosaic history: we 
shall produce, 

2. The testimony of other ancient 
writers. The confusion of tongues “ is men- 
“ tioned by profane historians, who write, that 
“ mankind used the same language till the 


* From Elam. f From Ashur. | From Arphaxad . 

|| From Aram. § From Nimrod. 5[ From Cush. 

'** From Mizraim. ft From Phut. From Canaan. 

UK From Gamer. §§ From Ashkenaz. SIU From Togarmah. 

*** See, on this perplexed subject, the laborious researches of 
the writers of the Anc. Univ. Hist. vol. I. book i. chap. 2. § 6. 






171 

* k overthrow of the tower of Babylon*.” The 
fable of the attempt of the giants to climb the 
heavens, probably owes it’s origin to some tra¬ 
ditions relative to this fact. It was a common 
mode of speaking in many nations, and in the 
East especially, when things exceeded the ordi¬ 
nary height, to say, that “ they reached to 
“ heavenf. When, therefore, it was said, “ Let 
“ us build a city, and a tower, whose top may 
“ reach to heaven,” no more was intended, than 
“ Let us build a tower exceedingly high.” 
But when the design descended, by tradition, 
in it’s native boldness of expression, to nations 
unacquainted with the Mosaic history, and with 
eastern language; who were, also, fond of the 
marvellous, and skilful in fable; they raised 
the story of the giants’ war with heaven, and 
celebrated this imaginary contest in verse, as 
harmonious as majestic^. Josephus quotes one 
of the Sybils, in the following words: “ When 
“ all mankind spoke the same language, some 
“ of them elevated a tower immensely high, 
“ as if they would ascend up into heaven : but 


* Auc.Univ. Ilist. vol. I. book i. chap. 2. § 5. p. 439. 
t Consult Ilomer, in various places; and read Deut. I. 28. also 
IX. 1. 

t Homer. Odys. 30. Ovid. Met. lib. I. Virg. Georg. I. &c. See 
also note 2, at the end of this Lecture. 








172 

* the gods sent a wind, and overthrew the 
" tower; and assigned to each a particular 
* l language; and hence the city of Babylon 
“ derived it's name*.” Abydenus uses similar 
language: “ There are, who relate, that the 
“ first men, born of the earth, when they grew 
proud of their strength and stature, suppos- 
ing that they were more excellent than the 
“ gods, wickedly attempted to build a tower, 
“ where Babylon now stands. But, the work 
91 advancing towards heaven, was overthrown, 
#< upon the builders, by the gods, with the 
“ assistance of the winds; and the name, Baby- 
“ Ion, was imposed upon the ruins. Till that 
“ period, men were of one language : but then, 
41 the gods sent among them a diversity of 
“ tongues. And then commenced the war be- 
il tween Saturn and Titan j\” Before we dismiss 
this part of the subject, we will only add, that 
“ it is a false tradition of the Greeks, that 
u Babylon was built by Semiramis; and this 
tl error is refuted by Berosus, in his Chaldaics, 
“ Josephus in his first book against Appion,” 
and others;);. It remains, that we attempt, 


* See note 3, at the end of this Lecture, 
t See note 4, at the end of this Lecture. 
} See note 5, at the end of this Lecture. 






173 

3. To ANSWER SOME ENQUIRIES ARISING 
OUT OF THE SUBJECT. 

Was there any thing criminal in the attempt 
to build this city and tower, considered in 
itself? We feel no hesitation in answering— 
No. But a thing perfectly lawful, and innocent 
in itself, may become criminal from the motives 
in which it originates, or the consequences con¬ 
nected with it. There were two ways in which 
this attempt, harmless in itself, was rendered 
criminal. First, the foundation of the work 
was laid in ambition. And what is ambition, 
but another name for every complicated vice 
which degrades humanity, and fills the world 
with sorrow? What so soon erases human feel¬ 
ings, as ambition? What so hardens the heart 
against the voice of woe, as ambition ? What 
violates the sanctity of truth, and disregards 
principles usually deemed sacred in society, with 
such facility, as ambition? What so completely 
transforms the character, as ambition? What so 
readily leads the bosom astray, as ambition? 
What peoples the grave, like ambition? How early 
it began to work in the world ! and how unceas¬ 
ing and unimpaired has it’s influence continued! 
“ Let us make us a name !” was the hope that 
deluded these first men; and many a subsequent 
projector, on the same vain principle, has built 
a Babel to his own confusion 1 And what heart 


174 


is altogether dead to the passion ? It was cri¬ 
minal, secondly and principally, we presume, 
because it had a tendency to counteract the 
designs of God: which designs had been expli¬ 
citly communicated. The mandate of heaven 
is, 66 Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish 
“ the earth. 5 ’ This required them to spread 
themselves abroad upon it's surface. But they 
deliberately and avowedly adopt a contrary re¬ 
solution ; and “ build a city and a tower, lest" 
they should “ be scattered abroad upon the face 
<£ of the whole earth.” 

Would not men, by degrees, have separated 
without the alteration of language ? It is very 
probable, that ambitious projects, in which they 
might not all concur, would have effected a 
separation : but in such a case, we can scarcely 
imagine, that such a division would take place 
without bloodshed. By the interposition of 
heaven, they separated peaceably. Besides, 
time would slowly have brought that to pass, 
which God accomplished at once; and had it 
been left to operations so gradual, the replenish¬ 
ing of the earth had been greatly retarded. 
Not to say, that without a dissonance of lan¬ 
guage, to a great degree the divisions of nations 
would have been lostand they would, proba¬ 
bly, have blended again together. To this 
hour, language is the strongest line of separa- 


tion drawn between man and man ; and one of 
the most powerful bulwarks of the distinction 
subsisting between different nations. 

Would not language of itself have changed, 
as the people multiplied, without the interpo¬ 
sition of Divine power ? Of this, there can be 
no question : but, in this case, it would only 
be a change of dialect, and not of language. 
In the revolution of a few centuries, what alter¬ 
ations have been made in our own tongue! Roll 
back but three or four hundred years, and we 
feel ourselves incapable of reading the dialect 
which our forefathers spoke. Yet, rude and 
barbarous as it appears, in it may be traced the 
basis of our present copious language. And, 
estimating the changes which time would have 
made, they will be found too gradual to have 
effected any separation. The alterations pro¬ 
duced by years, are small, and slowly brought 
about: they consist, in changing a few words 
in the course of a century: forming a few others; 
and dropping, as obsolete, an inconsiderable 
number before in use. This effects no division 
in a nation; and the same progression would 
have brought about none in the great body of 
mankind. Generation after generation would 
have passed, while the most trifling changes 
were forming. No motives would have been 
furnished for their living apart: no necessity 


176 

would have arisen, from this quarter, for their 
dispersion. But Deity interposed, to effect his 
own purpose; which was readily and com¬ 
pletely accomplished by the confusion of lan¬ 
guage. We hasten, 


II. TO DEDUCE FROM THIS FACT, SOME CONSI¬ 
DERATIONS ADAPTED TO OUR INDIVIDUAL 

IMPROVEMENT. 

The prophet, whose words, at the commence¬ 
ment of the Lecture, we connected with the 
Mosaic history, has furnished us with a thread 
of reflection, which canilot fail to conduct us 
to the right use which we ought to make of 
this singular narrative. He has pronounced the 
application of the subject. “ The pride of 
“ thine heart hath deceived thee, thou that 
“ dwelleth in the clefts of the rock, whose ha- 
“ bitation is high; that saith in his heart, who 
“ shall bring me down to the ground ? Though 
“ thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and though 
cc thou set thy nest among the stars, thence will 
“ I bring thee down, saith the Lord!” Had 
he stood by and seen the project of these men, 
in it's proud advance, and in it’s disastrous 
issue, he could not have painted their presump¬ 
tion, their folly, and their humiliation, in more 


177 

striking language. The following remarks ap¬ 
pear clearly deducible from these words : 

1. Most of our errors originate in the 

“ PRIDE OF OUR HEARTS AND THIS PRIDE 
WILL ALWAYS BE FOUND TO HAVE “ DECEIVED” 
US. 

It was this pride that dictated the haughty 
language of the king of Babylon, when, from 
the battlements of his palace, he looked down 
upon his beautiful city, and said—“ Is not this 
“ great Babylon, that I have built for the 
“ house of the kingdom, by the might of my 
“ power, and for the honour of my majesty?” 
O, how the “ pride of his heart deceived” him! 
“ While the word was in the king’s mouth, 
“ there fell a voice from heaven, saying, O 
“ king Nebuchadnezzar, to thee it is spoken; 
“ the kingdom is departed from thee!” The 
“ same hour” was he “ driven from men,” 
“ and his “ dwelling was with the beasts of 
4t the fieldhis reason was withdrawn,— 
“ and his body was wet with the dew of 
" heaven.” Behold, he that would be thought 
a God, is become less than a man ! Nor were 
the balances of power again put into his hand, 
till he had been brought to confess, “ that the 
“ Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men, 
“ and giveth it to whomsoever he willand 
to acknowledge, in a repentant decree, that 


178 


“ those who walk in pride, he is able to 
“ abase.” 

Happy had it been for his successor, if this- 
awful display of divine justice, had wrought, 
in his heart, obedience. But Belshazzar learned 
not wisdom from his grandfathers humiliation. 
He exceeded his great progenitor in impiety. 
He stood on the pinnacle of empire, till he was 
giddy with gazing upon the rolling world be¬ 
neath him! The forces of Cyrus surrounded the 
cit}' : but, trusting in it’s impregnable strength, 
the defence of the river, and the greatness of 
his stores, he laughed his enemies to scorn. 
The feast was spread, and the revellings had 
commenced. Death hovered round his court, 
and destruction brooded over his city, while he 
was sunk in senseless security. And now, the 
voice of joy, and the noise of riot, resound 
through the palace. The monarch calls upon 
his nobles to devote the hours to gaiety; to 
scatter their fears to the winds; to drink de¬ 
fiance to the warrior advancing to their very 
gates; and, to fill the measure of his iniquity, 
to add insult to the miseries of his captives, to 
crown dissipation with sacrilege, he requires, 
last of all, the vessels of the sanctuary, that 
they might be profaned by their application to 
not merely common uses, but to the vile pur¬ 
poses of debauchery. It is done. The king is 


179 

lost in unbounded pleasure, and intoxicated 
with unlimited power.—-In one moment, the 
voice of riot ceases,—silence, as profound as the 
stillness of the grave, reigns through the whole 
palace—every tongue is chained—every eye is 
fixed—despair lowers on every countenance--- 
the charm is broken—and the night of feasting 
is turned into unutterable horror! See! yonder 
shadow, wearing the appearance of the fingers 
of a mans hand, glides along the wall of the 
palace opposite the monarch, and writes, in 
mysterious characters, “ Mene, Mene, Tekel, 
61 Upharsin.” What has changed that youth¬ 
ful countenance? What has chased it’s bloom of 
beauty, and drawn on it the strong lines of 
misery ? Behold, this king, who lately dreamed 
that he w^as more than mortal, trembling on 
iiis throne! “ The joints of his loins are loosed, 
“ and his knees smite one against another!”— 
What the army of Cyrus could not do, a super¬ 
natural hand, writing four little words, has 
effected; and his soul melts within him through 
terror! But say, what is the cause of this pre¬ 
mature distress ? Perhaps yonder inscription 
declares the permanence of his kingdom; and 
inscribes, in those hidden characters, the de¬ 
struction of his enemies? Ah no!—Conscience 
read too well the handwriting; and interpreted 
the solemn sentence of impending ruin, long 


N 


180 


before Daniel explained the inscription! White 
all was riot, during the first part of the night, 
and dismay, during the remainder, Cyrus had 
diverted the river from it's course, had entered 
the city, through it's exhausted channel, unper-r 
ceived, and was now at the palace gates. The 
empire was lost; the captive Jews were liberated : 
and “ that same night was Belshazzar, the king 
“ of the Chaldeans, slain.'’ Behold another, 
added to the innumerable sad evidences,, that 
the “ pride of the heart" fatally “ deceives,” 
and finally ruins those who cherish it. 

2. Situations in life, which should lay 

THE FOUNDATION OF GRATITUDE, WHEN UN¬ 
SANCTIFIED, BECOME THE BASIS OF REBEL¬ 
LION. 

The prophet addressed those “ who dwelt in 
“ the clefts of the rock, and whose habitation 
“ was high who enjoyed, both an elevated, 
and a secure, situation. This should have mi¬ 
nistered to thankfulness: it should have re¬ 
minded them of the hand that raised them to 
the eminence which they occupied. But no; 
it kindled £f pride of heartit inflamed the 
imagination with the desire of independence : 
it stirred up rebellion: it implanted in their 
bosoms false confidence: it betrayed them to 
their ruin. Thev said, “ Who shall brine: me 
“ to the ground r ’ But the birth of their pre- 


181 


sumption was the death of their security: for 
while they spake these “ great, swelling words” 
of arrogance, the protection of God was with¬ 
drawn. Adversity has “ slain it’s thousands 
but prosperity, it’s “ tens of thousands.” Those 
that have weathered the tempests of suffering, 
have been ingulfed in the whirlpool of dissi¬ 
pation. Elevation makes the head unsteady, 
and the feet totter; therefore, if Providence 
exalt you, hold fast the hand which conducts 
you to the perilous summit, 

3. No SITUATION IN LIFE, HOWEVER APPAR¬ 
ENTLY FORTIFIED, IS SECURE, WHEN GoD IS 

OUR enemy, 

“ Though thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and 
“ though thou set thy nest among the stars, 
“ thence will I bring thee down, saith the 
“ Lord.” How clear and express are these 
words! “ Though thou exalt thyself —When 
God elevates a man, he gives him grace equal 
to his temptations ; but there are, who make 
haste to be rich—who press through every con¬ 
sideration to power—who will be great—and 
“ exalt themselves ’ at the sacrifice of every 
principle. Yonder city rises on that determina¬ 
tion. The tower rapidly advances. It is of 
prodigious strength and magnitude. But it’s 
desolation is decreed in heaven; and although 
it aspired to the stars, it is brought down to the 


182 


ground. Let us, therefore, stoop to rise. Let 
us “ humble ourselves under the mighty hand 
“ of God; and he shall exalt us in due time.” 
If we would build securely, we must lay the 
foundation of our edifice on the top of yonder 
everlasting hills, and set up it's walls in the 
unchangeable heavens: for 

“ He builds too low, who builds beneath the skies !” 

What, then, is their state, who are labouring 
to ascend to heaven by a superstructure of their 
own elevation? who “ reject the righteousness 
“ of God, and go about to establish one of 
<c their own?”—“ The pride of their heart hath 

deceived them and divine agency alone can 
destroy the delusion. What shall be said to 
those who imagine themselves in security, yet 
have not “ fled for refuge to lay hold upon the 
“ hope set before them?” Even now is the 
decree of heaven gone forth against all ungod¬ 
liness : even now is ths sentence of condemna- 

^ * 

tion issued against the impenitent: even now 
conscience thunders, “ Thou art weighed in 
<c the balances and art found wanting !”—and 
God confirms the decision ! 




NOTES. 


■V r & t\r\y o 

Note 1.—Les impressions qu’avoient faites sur l’imagination de 
Noe et de sa posterite les eaux du deluge, les firent demeurer dans 
les lieux les plus £lev£z, ct les moios accessibles aux inondations. 
Ils habiterent sur les montagnes d’Arm^nie, voisines du lieu oil 
1’arche s’etoit arretee. Mais cent quarante quatre annees ensuite, 
selon la supputation d’un des plus c£l£bres chronologistes*, ces fra- 
yeurs etant entierement dissipees, ils se repandirent dans les vallees 
et dans les campagnes, et ils occup&rent les plainesde la Chaldee, ou 
de la Babylonie. 

Saur. Discours, fyc. sur la Bible , Tome I, Disc. x. p. 65. 
This extract is translated in page 162, of the preceding Lecture. 

Note 2.—The giants’ war described by different ancient poets. 

O c ractv ett O p.t[xa,a-<xv Ve[/.sv, ctvrct(> £7r O x&n 

TlvXiov tivoatyvXhov, IV v^civos e\t) 

K ui vv y.sv i£treheo-crotv, ei r)Qn<; /xtr^ov Wovro. 

Horn. Odys. xi. 

t 

Proud of their strength, and more than mortal size, 

The gods they challenge, and affect the skies ; 

Heav’d on Olympus, tott’ring Ossa stood, 

On Ossa, Pelion nods with all his wood. 

Pope's Horn. Odys. b. xi. 1. 385-388. 

*. * . ✓ 

-ssevumque Typhoea 

Lt conjuratos coelum rescindere fratres. 


* Voi, Petau. Abr£ge Chronol. Tom. I. p. 12, et Tom, III. p, 3. 

N 4 







184 


NOTES. 


Ter sunt conati imponere Pelio Ossam 

Scilicet, atque Ossae frondosum involvere Olympum: 

Ter Pater extructos disjecit fulmine mortis. 

Virg. Georg, lib. i. v. 279—283. 


- And cruel Typhoeus, and the brethren, leagued to scale 

heaven. Thrice, indeed, they attempted to pile Ossa upon Pclion *, 
and to roll zcoody Olympu$\ upon Ossa : thrice the Father of heaven 
overthrew the mountains, thus heaped up, with thunder. 


Neve foret terris securior nrduus aether; 

Affcctasse ferunt regnum c celeste gigantes, 

Altaque congestos struxisse ad sidera montes. 

Turn Pater Omnipotens misso perfregit Olympum 
Fulmine, et excussit subjecto Pelio Ossam. 

Ovid. Met. fab. vi. lib. i. v. 151—155. 

Nor were the gods themselves more safe above, 

Against beleaguer’d heav’n the giants move: 

Hills pil’d on hills, on mountains, mountains lie, 

To make their mad approaches to the sky. 

Till Jove, no longer patient, took his time 
T’ avenge, with thunder, their audacious crime ; 

Red lightning play’d along the firmament, 

And their demolish’d works to pieces rent. 

Dryden. 

Garth's Ovid, b. i. 1. 193, <5'C« 

These extracts refer to page 171, of the preceding Lecture: 


NOTE 3.— TIccvluv of/.o(pu>vuv ov\uv ruv uv§£u>7ru» Trv^yov UKc^op-Ytaoiv 
Tms vi]/r)holx.Tov, u<; hri oigavov ccvctGvicroptVGi ol uvlu' O* ©£0i 
uvsyy$ sTrtTr/jX-vJ/am} uvel^^av rov vrvgyov, xan i¥uxv Ikoco\u (puvyv 
t&unzccv, xou T«1 o BocGvXuvoc, cvnQv) xX»j6i?i , a. rr,v woXn. 

Joseph, de Antiq. Jud. 
Lib. I. cap. 4. Tom. I. Hudsoni edit. 


* Two high mountains in Thessaly. 

t An hill between Thessaly and Macedon, so high, that the heathen poets 
usually apply it’s name to heaven. 





NOTES. 


185 


This quotation, preserved by Josephus, is translated in page 172, 
of the preceding Lecture. 

Note 4.—Testimony of Abydenus, preserved by Eusebius:— 
E*Vri oi Xryacr*, resq irgunsq lx yr\q uvxa^pvluq pup*) re xa» peye9e$ 
X t oc,vvu§ev\ctq Sri Gevv xctlx.Qgovrio'Ccvlxq upteivovxq elvcci, rvgaw */)>u£<xIo» 
aelgetv f Kvx vvv BuQv?mv ierh. te diraov e\vu\, ra a^ava' xat Tag 
avipuq Geotai fioyjSeoylxq uvcti^Qxi ire£ ctvro7?e to pviy^xvinpx' ru» 
^yjrx igewtoi "heyea Oat Ba^iAa/va. reuq 5e ov latq opoyXuxjanT lx Geaa 
no"hv§(>ijv QuvYtV mtxacrSa*. [/.era. bt K ^ovu re xat Ttrim cvalwxt 
n-oXtpov. 

Ex Abydeno. 

• __ 

Euseb. Prap. ix. c. 14. 

Translated in page 172, of the preceding Lecture. 


Note 5. —Remark of Grotius respecting the building of Babylon: 
" Falso autem a Graecis proditum, conditam h. Semiramida Babylo- 
“ nem, etiam Berosus in Chaldaicis prodidit, ut nos Josephus docet 
“ contra Appionem, primo: eundemque errorem turn ex Philone 
u Biblio, turn ex Dorotheo Sidonis refellit Julius Firmicus. Vide 
et quae de gigantibus et turri ex Eupolemo nobis adducit Eusebius 
u Praeparat. Evangelicae lib. xx. cap. 17.” 

Grot, de Relig. Christ. § xvi. i)i not. 63. 
The substance of this note is given in page 172, of the preceding 
lecture. 



186 ' 


A 


LECTURE V. 

t > " '* * . ‘ 

V ^ , 

THE DESTRUCTION OF SODOM AND 

GOMORRAH. 


GENESIS XIX. 15—26\ 

y* . ' 

And when the morning arose, then the angels hast¬ 
ened Lot, saying, Arise, take thy wife, c/W My 
tzvo daughters, which are here; lest they be 
consumed in the iniquity of the city . And zvhile 
he lingered, the men laid hold upon his hand, 
and upon the hand of his zvife, and upon the hand 
of his tzvo daughters ; the Lord being merciful 
unto him: and they brought him forth, and set 
him zvithout the city . And it came to pass, when 
they had brought them forth abroad, that he 
said, Escape for thy life; look not behind tliec, 
neither stay thou in all the plain ; escape to the 
mountain, lest thou be consumed . And Lot said 
unto them, Oh, riot so, my Lord: Behold nozv, 
thy servant hath found grace in thy sight, and 




187 

thou hast magnified thy mercy, which thou hast 
shewed unto me in saving my life ; and I cannot 
escape to the mountain, lest some evil take me, 
and I die : Behold now, this city is near to flee 
unto, and it is a little one: oh, let rue escape 
thither, (is it not a little one?) and my soul 
shall live. And he said unto him, See, I have 
accepted thee concerning this thing also, that I 
will not overthrow this city, for the which thou 
hast spoken. Haste thee, escape thither ; for I 
cannot do any thing till thou he come thither . 
Therefore the name of the city was called Zoar. 
The sun was risen upon the earth when Lot en¬ 
tered into Zoar. Then the Lord rained upon 
Sodom and Gomorrah brimstone and fire from 
the Lord out of heaven; ana he overthrew 
those cities, and all the plain, and all the inha¬ 
bitants of the cities, and that which grew upon 
the ground . But his wife looked back from be-, 
hind him, and she became a pillar of salt. 


£ PETER II. 6 . 

- Turning the cities of Sodom and Gomorrha 

into ashes, condemned them with an overthrow; 
making them an example unto those that after 
■ should live ungodly. 


The history of Genesis is peculiarly interest* 
ing, because it soon leaves the wide concerns 


188 


of nations, and attaches itself to individuals. 
It discovers to us the Deity commanding “ light 
“ to shine out of darknessand presents a 
short, yet comprehensive, account of things the 
most sublime and difficult: it relates the de¬ 
struction, and the renovation, of the world; it 
gives us a clue by which we are enabled to 
trace the origin of nations; and after having 
thus opened a boundless scene before us, it 
relieves the mind, bewildered and wearied in 
it’s researches, by fixing the attention upon 
one quiet object. We find ourselves transported 
into the bosom of a family; and are encom¬ 
passed, before we are aware, with the beauties 
and the pleasures of domestic life. We unite in 
their devotions : glow with their ardour: weep 
with their sorrows; and rejoice in their pros¬ 
perity. The fluctuations of empires, the re¬ 
volutions of states, the atehievements of am¬ 


bition, distract and tire our attention : but in 
entering into the concerns of a family, every 
man feels himself at home—in pursuing the 
hopes and fears, the labours and disappoint¬ 
ments, of an individual, every man traces the 
image of his own anxieties and pleasures. 

When we turn over the pages of profane 
writers, what different scenery is presented! 
We justly admire the beauties of Homer: as 

r * " * 

a poet truly sublime; possessing a genius which 


189 


soared high above the common standard of hu¬ 
man intellect. In energy of composition, in 
loftiness of language, in richness of imagery, 
he stands unrivalled—lie ranks next to the sa- 
cred writers. But in his works, from first to 
last, we are dragged through fields of slaughter: 
or trace the mortifying windings of human cor¬ 
ruption : or are surrounded with scenes, over 
which humanity drops tears of unavailing re¬ 
gret. We hear, in strains the most harmonious, 
a hero sung, returning from the battle, covered 
with human blood. The martial music that 
announces his approach, is drowned iii the 
shrieks of orphans. The laurel of which he 
proudly boasts, was nourished in the empur¬ 
pled plains of carnage, and snatched from the 
field of death. 

Hail, peaceful retreats! Ye calm, sequestered, 
tranquil tents, that stretched your quiet sha¬ 
dow over the head of the venerable patriarch, 
and shielded him from the heat of the day— 
welcome to the mind’s eye! Far be the scene of 
desolation! Approach, ye gentle shadows that 
once lived in this valley of tears; and even now 
that ye are borne away to heaven, return to 
our imagination, and revisit us in the sacred 
pages! Let the maddening world seek “ the 
“ battle of the warrior with confused noise 
we love to observe the pleasing bonds of friend- 


190 

ship, and to admire the domestic felicity of a 
pious family. To the hero, who delights in 
(( garments rolled in blood,” we consign the 
pages that describe, in colours, alas! too natu¬ 
ral, the horrors of war. Be it ours, to listen to 
the music of the grove ; to trace the windings 
of the rivulet; to read the name of God in the 
starry heavens ; and to follow the good man 
through his chequered life, to a “ city of habi- 
(( tation.” While others burn with the ardour 

• f » 

of the warrior, let us glow with the exalted 
piety shining through the character of those 
good men, who borrowed all their lustre from 
friendship with God! 

After the memorable event, which formed 
the subject of discussion in the last Lecture, we 
are introduced, rather suddenly, to the great 
progenitor of the Jewish nation : in whose 
“ seed,” it is promised, “ all nations of the 
“ earth shall be blessed.” Terah, the father 
of Abraham, descended in a direct line from 
Seth. Idolatry had already commenced, and 
was widely diffused, when “ Terah took Abram 
“ his son, and Lot the son of Haran, his son's 
“ son, and Sarai his daughter-in-law, his son 
“ Abram’s wife; and they went forth with 
“ them from L T r of the Chaldees, to <ro into the 

V 7 o 

“ land of Canaan ; and they came unto Haran, 

“ and dwelt there. And the days of Terah 


191 

u were two hundred and live years: and Terah 
“ died in Haran.” Idolatry was probably the 
cause of this removal. The city in which they 
dwelt was the centre of superstition: it was 
called Ur, which signifies fire, or light ; a name 
which was probably given it, like Heliopolis, 
because it was devoted particularly to the wor¬ 
ship of fire, and consecrated to the sun*. It 
appears that God had expressly testified his 
will, that Abram should proceed to Canaan; 
and, obeying the call of heaven, “ he went out, 
“ not knowing whither he went.” At an ad¬ 
vanced age, this patriarch left his home, and 
his connections: for he was “ seventy-five years 
u old, when he departed out of Ilaran.” Lot, 
his brother's son, accompanied him. Possibly, 
as he was childless, it was Abram’s intention 
to adopt him: but a better, and a stronger, 
reason, for his attachment to his uncle, was, 
that the hand of heaven had touched his heart; 
and that he acted in obedience to the same di¬ 
vine mandate, which had led Abram into a 
strange land, even when the pressure of years 
was bending his steps sowards the valley of the 
shadow of death. 

Oh, the triumphs of faith! It overlooks in- 

* 


»'* t • 


* * See note 1, at the end of this Lecture, 



192 


tervening years, and regards the promised bless¬ 
ing as already in possession ! It removes every 
difficulty; answers every objection ; and never 
rests till it's end is obtained ! Exercised by de¬ 
lays, it patiently endures : corrected by trials, 
it prepares it's possessor for the good to which 
it is pressing forward ; and crowned with ulti¬ 
mate success, it throws over him a glory, undi¬ 
minished by the revolution of years, and un¬ 
tarnished by the hand of age \ 

To manifest how large a portion of this 
grace this truly great man possessed, he was 
named, “ the father of the faithful;” and so 
pleasing in the eyes of Deity were the traits of 
his character, that God conferred upon him a 
title more dignified, more glorious, and more 
enviable, than the greatest monarch, and the 
proudest conqueror, ever enjoyed—he was call¬ 
ed, “ the Friend of God.” 

Yet was he but a man! His exalted charac¬ 
ter—and his holy life—were sometimes tarnished 
with human weakness. Oh! where was his 
faith in the protecting hand of heaven, when 
unguardedly, yet deliberately, he sought refuge 
in prevarication, to save himself from violence 
in Egypt, on account of his wife P “ Say, I pray 
“ thee, thou art my sister!” It was not indeed 
an absolute falsehood in point of fact; but it 
was a wilful intent to deceive, which enters di- 


i 


193 

rectly into the nature, and forms all the clia- ; 
racter, of lying. The compassion of God to 
human infirmity, was manifest, in casting a 
mantle of forgiveness over this sinful pusillani¬ 
mity. The hand of Deity was still stretched 
out in his defence; and his unchangeable Friend 
was better to him than his fears. But as he 
used unlawful means to secure his safety, his 
sin was made his punishment. Pharaoh, justly 
exasperated at the deception practised upon 
him; and fearing the anger of God, who had 
afflicted his house with great plagues; restored 
his wife, but banished him from his dominions. 
Thus, simply, in the use of the means, to rely 
upon God, in the hour of peril, will always 
defend us from danger, and deliver us from evil ; 
but to distrust the Deity, and to shelter ourselves 
under our own unlawful, or sinful, devices, ex¬ 
poses us to incalculable difficulties, and will 
involve us in trouble, in the very midst of 
deliverance. 

As Abram journeyed in the road by which he 
had descended into Egypt, he came again to 
an altar, which he had before set up, in his 
way thither. Sweet are the recollections of 
kindnesses received; and pleasant the memo¬ 
rials of mercies departed ! If we were to accus¬ 
tom ourselves to rear tokens of remembrance 
for every assistance which we derive from God; 


o 


194 

and to erect an altar where we receive a mercy 
how many evidences for good would be pre¬ 
sented in the retrospection of our lives; and 
the review of the past, would create confidence 
for the future. The moss might grow over the 
pillar, and the fire of the altar would go out: 
but the inscription would be fresh on the tablet 
of memory, and gratitude would kindle the 
purer flame of affection in the heart. Thus 
Abram reared an altar in his way to Egypt; and 
found it again on his return. Thus Jacob ele¬ 
vated a pillar, at Bethel, after his vision of God^ 
and with what feelings did he revisit it, when 
he was delivered from his fears, and increased 
in his blessings! Thus “ Samuel” took a stone, 
“ and set it up between Mizpah and Slien, and 
“ called the name of it Ebenezer, saying c Hi- 
“ ‘ therto hath the Lord helped us f ” It is not 
necessary that we should erect these outward 

4 / 

memorials: but let the pillar be raised in our 
bosoms, and the inscription read in our lives! 

Multiplied in goods, at length it became ne¬ 
cessary that Abram and Lot should separate. 
There are few blessings of life unalloyed—few 
trials unmixed. The good that we pant after, 
has some unseen evil annexed to it, which will 
arise to cloud it in the very moment of posses¬ 
sion; and the evil that we deprecate produces 
some happy effect, which does not always cease 


t K 


195 

when it’s immediate cause is withdrawn. Ad¬ 
versity often unites the various branches of a 
family—prosperity as frequently separates them. 
The one teaches them that they ought to have 
a common concern—the other has an unhappy 
tendency to persuade them that they have a 
separate interest—and in many instances the 
latter is but too successful! Prosperity divided 
Abram and Lot. The place was too strait for 
their flocks; and the herdmen, on either side, 
had augmented the difficulty by contention. 
Oh ! who will not admire the spirit of Abram? 
“ And Abram said unto Lot, ‘ Let there be no 
“ c strife, I pray thee, between thee and me—• 
“ ‘ between thy herdmen and my herdmen—for 
ic e we are brethren! Is not the whole land be- 
“ £ fore thee ? Separate thyself, I pray thee, 
“ £ from me. If thou wilt take the left hand, 
“ £ then I will go to the right: or if thou de- 
“ 6 part to the right hand, then I will go to 
“ £ the left!’” Although the elder, bethought 
it no disgrace to yield ; and, by his submission, 
proved his greatness of mind. As the younger, 
it was the duty of Lot to have stooped: as the 
superior, Abram might have commanded. But 
no—his language is, “ We are brethren!” Lovely 
spirit of pure and undefiled religion! how it 
fosters the charities of human life! how it 
soothes the turbulence of passion! how it pro- 

o 2 



196 

motes the peace of society! It quenches the 
spark that was just bursting into a conflagra¬ 
tion. It unites more closely the knot that was 
almost unfolded. It knits together the link 
that was nearly broken. It extinguishes the 
torch of war; and banishes contention from the 
domestic circle. Lot chose the plain of Jor¬ 
dan, near Sodom and Gomorrah, into which he 
afterwards entered, and where he resided; and 
it was “ well watered every where, as the gar- 
“ den of the Lord.” 

The chain of history is broken, to relate in 
it’s order, a battle which was fought in the 
vale of Siddim. This event is recorded in a 
style exactly suited to the contest. The abrupt 
manner in which it breaks in upon the peaceful 
history, appears adapted to the relation of a 
tumult, which suddenly destroyed the harmony 
of the country, and depopulated cities, pre¬ 
viously slumbering in tranquillity. Where now 
is the fruitful plain ? the vallies watered by a 
thousand rills ? and the smiling pastures, which 
charmed the eye of Lot ? Ah! war has shaken 
his destructive scourge over them—has blasted 
their verdure—and transformed, by his wither¬ 
ing frown, this terrestrial paradise into a deso¬ 
late wilderness ! Lot himself was taken prisoner. 
No sooner were the tidings brought to Abram, 



I 


197 

than he roused to exertion; and arming his 
household, to the amount of three hundred and 
eighteen men, he rescued his brother, and de¬ 
livered the vanquished captives. The only 
difficulty arising here is this: how was it pos¬ 
sible for Abram, with three hundred and eigh¬ 
teen men, to oppose successfully four kings ; 
and to prevail over their armies already flushed 
with conquest ? To remove this apparent objec¬ 
tion to the sacred history, it is necessary to 
remark, that these kings were nothing more 
than rulers of four little cities, close by each 
other, whose combined forces, in that battle, 
probably, did not so considerably exceed 
Abram’s armed servants as a superficial reader 
might imagine. It should also be remembered, 
that Abram closely pursued, and overtook 
them, when they were wearied with the toils of 
battle, sunk in revellings, and unsuspicious of 
danger. The nerve of war was relaxed: and 
the softness of sensuality had already over¬ 
powered them. The servants of Abram pos¬ 
sessed their full vigour; and the banner of di¬ 
vine protection waved over their heads. 

On his return from this conquest, we are 
introduced to a very extraordinary personage. 
Melchisedec met him, blessed him, and received 
tythes at his hand. Little is known, and much 
has been conjectured, respecting this august 

o 3 


- 198 

stranger. His names appear to denote a cha¬ 
racter of moral excellence. Melchisedec signi¬ 
fies king of righteousness; and Melchisalem > 
translated in our bibles, “ king of Salem,” im¬ 
plies king of peace. The apostle who wrote to 
the Hebrews, considers him as a type of the 
Lord Jesus ; and describes him “ without fa- 
“ ther, without mother, without descent; hav- 
cc ing neither beginning of days nor end of 
ic life.” The obvious meaning of these decla¬ 
rations is, that we know nothing of his birth— 
nothing of his death—neither can we trace his 
genealogy. Introduced thus abruptly, he dis¬ 
appears as suddenly; and we hear of him no 
more. The veil is lifted to discover him ; and 
having just seen him, it is dropped—and hides 
him from us for ever! 

The toils of battle are succeeded by a solemn 
interview with Jehovah. “ The word of God 
“ came to Abram in a vision.” It was a word 
of consolation; it was a message of encourage¬ 
ment. A son was promised; and it was de¬ 
clared that his seed should be, “ as the stars of 
“ heaven,”—innumerable. As a ratification of 
this solemn engagement, he was commanded to 
prepare a sacrifice. During the whole day, he 
waited the promised visit from heaven; “ and 
w when the fowls came down on the carcases, 


199 

Abram drove them away/* But “ when the 
“ sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon 
<c Abram ; and lo, an horror of great darkness 
Mi fel! upon him.” Then the Deity renewed the 
promise before made to him; and predicted 
the slavery and the deliverance of his descend¬ 
ants in Egypt. And this was the sign of the 
covenant: “ it came to pass, that when the 
4i sun went down, and it was dark, behold, a 
“ smoking furnace, and a burning lamp, that 
passed between the pieces.” 

O Christian! in religious worship, guard 
against intruding thoughts: they are as the 
fowls descending to pollute, and to devour, thy 
sacrifice : like Abram, let it be thy effort to 
drive them away. Guard the offering from 
the unhallowed intruders; and if God delay, 
patiently wait the manifestation of his presence. 
“ The vision is for an appointed time; it will 
“ come, it will not tarry” beyond the moment 
of divine appointment. Enter with solemnity 
into the presence of God ; and approach him 
with seriousness. Every visit from the Divinity, 
is awful. “ An horror of great darkness fell 
“ upon Abram.” “ And Jacob awakened out 
“ of his sleep, and he said, ‘ Surely the Lord 
“ ‘is in this place; and I knew it not.’ And 
“ he was afraid, and said, ‘ How dreadful is 

o 4 


200 


li 


6 this place ! this is none other but the house 
“ i of God, and this is the gate of heaven f ” 

A new source of sorrow soon arises; and 
Abram’s domestic tranquillity is broken, by a 
contention between his wife and the servant, 
whom she had mven to cover what she deemed 

O 

her reproach. What a chequered scene is the 
life of the best of men! Sometimes irradiated 
with the glory of divine intercourse : at others, 
clouded by public, or domestic, trial. Abram 
is “ a stranger, and a pilgrim.” The beauty of 
liis wife ensnares him in Egypt. His prevarica¬ 
tion drives him thence. Their mutual prospe¬ 
rity renders a separation between him and Lot 
necessary—and effects the division. War breaks 
in upon his repose; and requires him to ‘ crush 
1 his aged limbs in ungentle steel.’ He forgets 
his labours and sorrows, in the blessings of di¬ 
vine communion, and in the soothing promises 
of a gracious covenant; when a contention is 
kindled, which consumes his dearest comforts ; 
an affliction springs up, which touches him in 
the most tender part; and his house becomes 
“ divided against itself.” Trials from without 
may be endured; and the man retires from the 
scene of strife and mortification, to a smiling 
family circle; he regains his temper, reassumes 
his tranquillity, renews his smiles, and forgets 
his vexations : but when domestic harmony is 


201 


destroyed, the very sources of peace are dried 
up; and it is in vain to look abroad for consola- 
lation. The man’s joys are polluted at their 
very fountain; and all their separate streams 
will necessarily flow defiled through all their 
ramifications. Peace affrighted, frequently flies 
from the tumults of the world, and alights, an 
angel form, in the bosom of a family : but if 
she is a stranger at home, we shall look for her 
in vain at the exchange of merchandise, and 
in the public walks of life. 

The issue of this contest was—Hagar fled. 
While she was prosperous and vain, she was 
left to taste the bitterness of her own folly: 
but the moment earth abandoned her, heaven 
took up her cause: God became the friend of 
the fugitive; and her name no sooner appeared 
on the list of the desolate, than the care of her 
fortunes was transferred from man to the Deity; 
and he became her guardian. She was culpable: 
and her fault had it’s correspondent penalty. 
Her foolish pride had embittered the peace of 
the family; and she lost the shelter of the roof 
under which she had introduced discord. We 
are displeased with the culprit: but we are 
moved at her punishment. A voice more than 
human is heard in the solitude ; and arrests her 
attention. An angel is sent to her with a mes¬ 
sage full of consolation. Her eyes, which were 


202 


clouded by sorrow, no sooner glanced upon her 
unexpected and illustrious visitor, than a gleam 
of hope illumined them: but when he unfolded 
the singular character, and the future fortunes, 
of her unborn child, they brightened into the 
full radiance of joy. It was ordained that his 
name should be Ishmael; and it was predicted 
concerning him, “ He will be a wild man ; his 
“ hand will be against every man, and every 
“ man's hand against him ; and he shall dwell 
u in the presence of all his brethren.” His de¬ 
scendants, the Arabs, have well accomplished 
the prophecy, at every period of their history. 
Living by plunder, and in perpetual warfare 
with all the world—remote from cities, and 
scattered in wandering tribes over the desert— 
resisted, yet invincible—they are “ wild men;” 
their “ hand is against every man”—and ££ every 
“ man's hand is against” them — and they r 
££ dwell in the presence of all their brethren.’' 
Heaven does not interpose to cherish a proud 
spirit, but to subdue it; and Hagar, having 
provoked the harshness with which her mistress 
treated her, is expected to make concessions, 
and commanded to return to Sarai. Her mas¬ 
ter’s roof once more shelters her; and under it's 
shadow the promised child is born. 

Thirteen years from this period, God renewed 
his covenant with Abram; and gave the seal 


203 

of circumcision. On this memorable occasion, 
the names of the patriarch, and of his wife, 
were changed to Abraham and Sarah, as 
more appropriate to the blessings that awaited 
them. Abram signifies high, or exalted father — 
a name of great respectability : Abraham im¬ 
plies father of nations —a name that embraces the 
latitude of the divine promise. Sarai signifies 
my princess — an appellation of fond regard : 
Sarah implies a princess —a title of honour, dig¬ 
nity, and dominion. 

In the same year the Deity again visited 
him as he sat at the door of his tent on the 
plains of Mam re. Three personages, apparently 
men, approached him : but although so thick 

a veil concealed them, he soon discovered that 

•0 

they were more than human. The promise of 
a child, by Sarah, was confirmed by new pro¬ 
testations. We presume not to develope the 
mystery of these three extraordinary charac¬ 
ters. Various conjectures have been formed 
respecting them; and to listen to conjectures 
is a fruitless and an endless labour. The person 
who remained with Abraham, when two de¬ 
parted towards Sodom, carries features of 
marked pre-eminence; and is expressly called 
Jehovah. Some have supposed, that an angel, 
bearing the commands of Deity, was honoured 
with that awful name, and used the lofty and 


504 


dignified language which appears on this part 
of the sacred record. We believe that, on this 
supposition, this instance is unparalleled in the 
scriptures. Others again imagine, as it appears 
to us, with greater reason, that it was the Son 
of God, attended by two angels. To him, this 
great and lofty name belongs by right; and to 
him, it is repeatedly assigned in the Bible. 
Jeremiah applies it to Jesus Christ without 
scruple. “ Behold, the days come, saith the 
“ Lord, that I will raise unto David a right- 
“ eous branch; and a king shall reign and 
“ prosper, and shall execute judgment and jus- 
C£ tice in the earth. In his days, shall Judah 
Ci be saved, and Israel shall dwell safely; and 
“ this is the name whereby he shall be called — 
“ Jehovah our Righteousness*.” 

The two angels having departed, the august 
personage, who bears every feature of Deity, 
and whom Abraham addresses with all the hu¬ 
mility which a deep sense of the divine pre¬ 
sence alone can inspire, imparted his displea¬ 
sure, and his designs against Sodom and Go¬ 
morrah, with the cities of the plainf. The 
remembrance of Lot, conspired with the feel¬ 
ings of humanity, to raise the combined voices 


* Jer. xxiii. 5, 6. 

f See note 2, at the end of this Lecture. 




503 


©f affection and of pity on behalf of the rebels 
doomed to destruction. Compassion touched 
his heart for the offenders, while he loathed 
their guilt; and the residence of a part of his 
own family among* them, suggested a plea* 
—“ Wilt thou also destroy the righteous with 
H the wicked ?” His language is powerful; for 
the heart dictated it: but it is submissive ; for 
the spirit of real religion directed it. What a 
pattern for us, in our addresses to the Deity! 
“ Behold now, I have taken upon me to speak 
“ unto the Lord, which am but dust and 
“ ashes!”— cc Oh, let not the Lord be angry, 
“ and I will speak !”—and this humility intro¬ 
duces and pervades every petition. What a re¬ 
proof to those who dare to approach the Ma¬ 
jesty of heaven irreverently ; and to speak with 
unhallowed familiarity to the high and lofty 
One who inhabiteth the praises of eternity ! 

According to the hospitality of the ancients, 
Lot sat at the gate of the city to invite to his 
habitation any stranger who might enter. To 
refresh the heart of the traveller, wearied with 
the toils of the day, and way-worn; to wash 
his feet; to give him a morsel of bread, a pil¬ 
low for repose, a smile of peace; and to send 
him on his way rejoicing, in the morning—this 
was practical religion, beaming forth in her 
native simplicty, from a patriarchs eyes. The 


20 6 


two angels, who had left Abraham, approach¬ 
ed Sodom. Lot addressed -them in language 
which implied that he was about to re¬ 
ceive, and not to confer an obligation. “ Be- 
“ hold now, my lords, turn in, I pray you, 
“ into your servant’s house, and tarry all night, 
“ and wash your feet, and ye shall rise up 
“ early, and go on your ways. And they said, 
“ Nay, but we will abide in the street all night. 
“ And he pressed upon them greatly; and they 
“ turned in unto him, and entered into his 
u house; and he made them a feast, and did 
u bake unleavened bread, and they did eat/’ 
This is the politeness of nature; and the true 
method of conferring a favour. It does not 
appear that, at this time, he knew them: and, 
referring most probably to this event, the apos¬ 
tle who wrote to the Hebrews directs, “ Be 
“ not forgetful to entertain strangers; for 
“ thereby some have entertained angels una- 
“ wares.” 

We draw a veil over the brutal scene which 

follows.-It is sufficient to remark, that such 

was the extreme and unpardonable wickedness 
of those detestable cities, that the indignation 
of God, manifested on their polluted plains, 
must be completely justified, even in the appre¬ 
hension of short-sighted mortals. 

At length their commission is opened before 



207 

Lot. He is commanded to brine: all that he 
held dear from a place devoted to destruction. 
He was compelled reluctantly to abandon his 
sons-in-law: who regarded him “ as one that 
“ mocked.” The angels hastened his lingering 
steps—urged his immediate departure—snatched 
him from his dangerous hesitation—and left 
him not, till they had conducted him to a 
place of safety. “ Then the Lord rained upon 
“ Sodom, and upon Gomorrah, brimstone and 
“ fire from the Lord out of heaven.” 

We have now touched the principal point of 

/ 

the present Lecture. The Destruction of 
Sodom and Gomorrah, is confirmed and 
established, by evidences at once short, com¬ 
prehensive, and satisfactory. They are included 
in the following arrangement: The narrative of 
Moses: the testimony of ancient writers; and 
the features of desolation remaining on the 
spot. 


I. THE NARRATIVE OF MOSES. 

We have selected for our contemplation, the 
moment when the attention is arrested by the 
conviction of impending danger ; and the point 
of history where the interest of the reader is 
excited in anticipation of it’s issue. The sa¬ 
cred writer discovers in this, as in every record 


208 


of his pen, singular ability in touching the 
heart; while he preserves a wonderful simpli¬ 
city throughout the whole narration. All is na¬ 
ture in his descriptions ; and his assertions bear, 
on their very face, the impress of truth. With 
what grandeur the scene opens upon us. The 
day dawns, which is to vanish from the 
eves of the wicked before it’s meridian; and 
they gaze, unconscious of danger, upon the 
earliest glories of the east, which are so soon, 
as it respects them, to be extinguished in eter¬ 
nal night. Lot emerges from the polluted 
scenes of depravity, an instance of the good¬ 
ness of God ; and escapes the desolation which 
demonstrated his just severity. “ And when 
“ the morning arose, then the angels hastened Lot , 
“ saying , Arise, take thy wife, and thy txeo 
“ daughters, which are here; lest thou be con- 
“ sumed in the iniquity of the city." The night 
is the season of alarm and of danger. As the 
gloom thickens, every object wears a portent¬ 
ous aspect. Its solemnity deepens the cloud of 
affliction; and throws a darker shade over sor¬ 
row itself. It is the time for awful deeds. Then 
the murderer stalks abroad to destroy; and his 
“ feet are swift to shed blood/’ Then the adul- 
tress spreads her toils to ensnare. Then vio¬ 
lence is prepared to “ smite with the fist of 
“ wickedness;” and the thief treads softly. 


209 

that he may “ break through and steal/’ Then 
the sinner hastens to iniquity, in imaginary se¬ 
curity under the covert of midnight, and says, 
in the ignorance and presumption of his heart, 
“ Tush! God doth not see f It was at night, 
that the destroying angel passed through 
Egypt to slay the first-born : at night, that 
the sword of the Lord penetrated the camp 
of Assyria, and destroyed an hundred and 
eighty-five thousand men : at night, that the 
shadow of a hand wrote on the wall of Belshaz¬ 
zar’s palace, the departure of his kingdom, 
the close of his glories, and of his life together, 
and the scrutiny of justice, with it’s perilous 
consequences. But the day has ever been re¬ 
garded as the season of security. The first ray 
of the morning chases the phantoms of the 
imagination, and terminates the horrors of 
fancy. Light discovers real peril, and bears 
with it the means of es.cape. When the day 
breaks upon us, it scatters peace, and joy, and 
safety, in it’s smiles. Ah, how little do we know 
where danger lurks, and when the dream of 
happiness shall be broken ! Sodom escapes the 
perils of the night, to fall by unexpected ven¬ 
geance in the morning! “ And while he lingered ” 
— who that had a heart to feel, and connections 
to relinquish, could refrain?— “ while he lingered 
“ the men laid hold upon his hand , and upon the. 


p 


210 


“ hand of his wife , and upon the hand of his two 
“ daughters; the Lord being merciful unto him ; 
u and they brought him forth , and set him with- 
“ out the city" A gentle constraint is laid upon 
him, to snatch him from ruin. It is thus that 
we feel a divided power gently attracting us 
from the world to the cross : we are drawn with 
“ the cords of love no violence is imposed 
upon our will in leading us from the paths of 
death : but we feel, and acknowledge, that it 
is he, “ who worketh in us to will and to do 
“ his own good pleasure.” It is thus, when 
our wandering hearts. “ follow lying vanities, 
“ and forsake their own mercies,” that God 
sends some gentle and salutary affliction, to 
chastise our folly, and to bring our spirit home 
to its rest. “ And it came to pass , when they 
k ' had brought them forth abroad , that he said, 
“ Escape for thy life ; look not behind thee, neither 
“ stay thou in all the plain ; escape to the moun- 
“ tain , lest thou be consumed .” Judgment once 
awakened is not always directed to discrimi¬ 
nate characters ; and the righteous are some¬ 
times permitted to suffer in the general cala¬ 
mity. It is not safe to dwell in the tents of 
sin; and those who take up their abode in the 
tabernacles of the wicked, must be content to 
share their portion, and their punishment—at 
least, in the present life. Nothing short of a 


211 


total separation from them can afford security: 
for to linger on the plain is as hazardous as to 
tarry in the city. “ And Lot said unto them , 
“ Oh, not so, my Lord In the very midst of 
danger, and while the cloud of ruin hangs over 
his head, self-willed man cannot refrain from 
opposing his opinions to the arrangements of 
Deity; and it must be “ according to his mind,” 
or he will scarcely be satisfied with his deli¬ 
verance. “ Behold ?ioTo, thy servant hath found 
ie grace in thy sight ”—should he therefore pre¬ 
sume? “ and thou hast magnified thy mercy, xvhich 
“ thou hast shelved unto me in saving my life 
should he not therefore be satisfied? Is the 
goodness of God a reason why he should tempt 
his forbearance? “ and L cannot escape to the 
“ mountain —why not? What shall hinder when 
God leads the way ? what can successfully op¬ 
pose, when he commands ? “ lest some evil take 
“ me, and L die!" O thou of little faith ! where¬ 
fore didst thou doubt? Was not he, who led 
thee forth from the midst of a people given 
over to utter desolation, strong to deliver? Was 
he not able to preserve thee ? And had he not 
given a tacit pledge of security, in the very 
command which he issued ? “ Behold now , this 
“ city is near to flee unto , and it is a little one ”— 
it is a small request that I prefer, in compa¬ 
rison with the unsolicited mercy which thou 

p 2 


212 


hast already manifested; or, it is a little city, 
and may well be spared in so wide and general 
a destruction as thine offended justice medi¬ 
tates—“ Oh, let me escape thither, (is it not a 
“ little one?) and my soul shall live?' What is 
the punishment which awaits the man who 
dares to lift his little plans to a competition 
with the wisdom of Deity? Let us adore the 
long suffering of God ! Heaven lends a gracious- 
ear to this supplication; “ and he said unto him , 
“ See, I have accepted thee concerning this thing 
“ also, that I will not overthrow this city, for 
u the which thou hast spoken How consistent 
is this with the character of God, who delight- 
eth to have mercy, and to forgive ! Lot had 
an high gratification in seeing this little object 
of his compassion escape the devastation of 
its vicinity, if benevolence urged his plea: 
but if selfishness dictated it, as the narrative 
seems to insinuate, he was greatly disappoint¬ 
ed : for although his request was granted, his 
terrors suffered him not to derive from it the 
advantage which he proposed: since he after¬ 
wards abandoned the retreat which he had 
chosen, and fled to the mountain, whither God 
had at first directed him, “ for he feared to 
dwell in Zoar.” “ Haste thee, escape thither; 
thy presence disarms my wrath, and withholds 
my righteous vengeance : “ for 1 cannot do any 


213 


u thing till thou he come thither:' Behold the 
value and importance of one righteous man r 
It was the hp of infallible truth, which said of 
his disciples~- a Ye are the salt of the earth!’ 
“ Thereforef in remembrance of the success¬ 
ful plea of Lot, “ the name of the city was called 
“ Zoarf which signifies little , and relates to 
the argument which it’s intercessor used. Most 
of the names, given to persons, and to things, 
in the scriptures, bear a reference to some sig¬ 
nal circumstances, more nearly, or remotely, 
connected with them. 

“ The sun was risen upon the earth when Lot 
“ entered into Zoar .' This calm is perfectly 
natural, and agrees with almost every account 
transmitted to us, of tempests, earthquakes, 
and great convulsions of nature. We know that 
the wind usually falls, and that there is a pro¬ 
found serenity diffused over the atmosphere, 
before a storm. The former part of that day ? 
in which Lisbon was destroyed by an earth¬ 
quake, was uncommonly fine; and the danger 
was not even apprehended, till an unusual sub¬ 
terraneous noise, and a slight trembling of the 
ground, preceded, for a few moments, the first 
great shock which almost levelled the whole 
city. This same agitation of the earth was 
almost universal, and extended nearly over the 
whole globe; and in every place where it was 

p 3 


214 


felt, the same tranquillity was observed to 
reign, before the calamity was endured. This 
calm, however, is unspeakably dreadful! Who 
can read this single verse without shuddering? 
As the destruction was unexpected, it Avas the 
more terrible; and as it was sudden, it admit¬ 
ted of no escape. The sons-in-law of Lot 
mocked his admonitions; and they were roused 
to a sense of their importance and truth, only 
by the hand of death. Let this consideration 
prepare us for a still greater event, in the so¬ 
lemnities of which Ave must all participate; and 
Avhich Avill be equally sudden and unexpected : 
for “ as it was in the days of Lot, even so shall 
“ the coming of the Son of man be!” 

“ Then the Lord rained upon Sodom and upon 
“ Gomorrah , brimstone and fire from the Lord 
out of heaven; and he overthrew those cities , 
“ and all the plain , and all the inhabitants of the 
<( cities , and that which grew upon the ground .” 
Some commentators translate the words “ brim- 
“ stone and fire,” brimstone inflamed; and the 
Interpretation which they build upon this trans¬ 
lation is, that brimstone inflamed, in the He¬ 
brew style of writing, signifies neither more 
nor less, than lightning. It is reasonable to 
conclude, that this lightning penetrated so far 
into the veins of bitumen, with which These 
plains are known to be impregnated, as to en- 


215 

kindle the combustible matter; which would 
quickly communicate it’s heat and flame to the 
cities, and to the whole country, more entirely 
and expeditiously than the lava of a burning 
mountain lays waste the lands over which it 
flows : and after consuming all that was capable 
of such a destruction, formed the heavy, fetid, 
unwholesome lake, called the Dead Sea, from 
its wide expansion, and the stillness of it’s 
waters. Justin observes, respecting this sea, 
that it cannot be moved by the winds, by rea¬ 
son of the large quantity of bitumen immersed 
in it; which also renders it incapable of being 
navigated. The same remark will not be found 
to apply to the same sea in the present day; as 
we have instances of some modern travellers 
having ventured to bathe in it: but this also 
may be accounted for, on the same principle; 
the diminution of the bitumen; which is con¬ 
tinually removed, by persons on the spot, as it 
emerges from this singular lake. Neither is it 
true, that no bird will adventure to stretch his 
wing across it, as some ancient writers have 
asserted : for many have been observed to sport 
along it’s dreary banks: but the salt with which 
it is impregnated is inimical to vegetation; it’s 
waves retain a sufficient degree of malignity to 
endanger the health of those who are rash 
enough to plunge into it's unnatural waters; 

p 4 


216 


and it retains a sufficient degree of desolation, 
to justify the description of the destruction 
suggested in the present Lecture ; and to con¬ 
firm the general account of antiquity, making 
a reasonable allowance for the alterations which 
time may be supposed to have effected. 

44 But his wife looked back from behind him , 
4 4 and she became a pi liar of salt." A learned 
writer* observes, 44 The sulphureous storm did 
44 not begin to fall upon Sodom, till Lot was 
44 safely arrived at Zoar. But his wife looked 
44 back before he reached Zoar : for she looked 
44 back from belli fid him , as he was going to 
44 Zoar. When she looked back, Sodom and 
44 it’s plains appeared as pleasant as before. She 
44 looked back with affection to the place, and 
44 regret at leaving it: according to the import 
of the original wordf. This implied unbe- 
44 lief*.' She wavered — 44 she stopped by the 
44 way, and left her husband to go by him- 
44 self"—in the fluctuations of her mind, 44 she 
44 would proceed no farther; and might be at 
44 a considerable distance from Zoar, and so 


* Dr. Taylor, in his Scheme of Scripture and Divinity: now out 
of print, but preserved in Bishop Watson’s Theological Tracts. Vol. 
I, rhap. xxv. p. 100. 



i t 


t 031. 


r 





217 

near to Sodom, as, probably, to be involved 
“ in the terrible shower, and thereby turned 
“ into a nitro-sulpliureous pillar:—or at least 
to be suffocated by it, and incrusted with it. 
“ This gives proper force to our Lord’s admo- 
“ nition, Remember Lot's wife*. Lctthejudg- 
“ ment of God upon her , warn you of the 
“ folly and danger of hankering after, and 
“ being loath to part with, small and temporal 
“ things, when your life and happiness, the 
“ greatest and most lasting concerns, are at 
“ stake.” 

IVe lead you forwards to another branch of 
evidence; 


II. THE TESTIMONY OF ANCIENT WRITERS. 

It is asserted by Tacitus, that the traces of 
the fire which consumed these cities were visi¬ 
ble in his days. “ At no great distance are 
“ those fields, which, as it is said, were for- 
“ merly fruitful, and covered with great cities, 
u till they r were consumed by lightning: the 
“ vestiges of which remain in the parched ap- 


* Luke xvii. 32. 






218 

u pearance of the country, which has lost its 
“ fertility*.” 

The testimony of Philoj* and of Pliny:{: ac¬ 
cords with that of the Roman historian. 

Diodorus Siculus describes the lake Asphal- 
tites at large, in two different parts of his work; 
and concludes his account by saying, “ The 
“ region round about burning with fire, ex- 
“ hales a stench so intolerable, that the bodies 
“ of the inhabitants are diseased, and their 

lives contracted^.” 

Strabo, in writing on the same subject, thus 
concludes: “ There are many indications that 
“ fire has been over this country : for about 
“ Masada they shew rough and scorched rocks, 
“ and caverns in many places eaten in, and 
“ the earth reduced to ashes, and drops of 
61 pitch distilling from the rocks, and hot 
“ streams, offensive afar off, and habitations 
“ overthrown; which renders credible, some 
“ reports among the inhabitants, that there 
“ were formerly thirteen cities on that spot, 
“ the principal of which was Sodom; so ex- 
u tensive as to be sixty furlongs in circum- 
u ference; but tliat by earthquakes, and by 


* Tacit. Ilist. lib. v. 
t Piin. Ilist. lib. v. cap. 16. 


f Philo de Vita Mosis. 
Diod. Sic. lib. ii. et lib. xix. 





219 

/ 

“ an eruption of fire, and by hot and bitumi- 
“ nous waters, it became a lake as it now is: 
<£ the rocks were consumed, some of the cities 
“ were swallowed up, and others abandoned 
cc by those of the inhabitants who were able to 

e r dfe i? 

escape . 

Similar to this is the language of Solinus. 
“ At a considerable distance from Jerusalem, a 
“ frightful lake extends itself, which has been 
“ struck by lightning, as is evident from the 
“ ground, black, and reduced to ashes)'.” He 
goes on to relate the fable of the apples grow¬ 
ing near it, which were said to appear fair to 
the eye, but to contain only sooty ashes, and 
upon being touched, to exhale into smoke, or 
to vanish into dust. The same fiction is men¬ 
tioned also by Tacitus : but we must learn, in 
receiving the testimony of ancient historians, 
to distinguish between truth and fable, to sepa¬ 
rate the former from the latter, with which it 
is often found overwhelmed, to discriminate 
between the fact and the legend, to divide that 
which they saw, from that which they admitted 
only from tradition, to make allowance for their 
credulity, and impartially to weigh the evi- 


* Strabo, lib. xvi. 

f Solinus, cap, xxxvi, edit. Salmasiana;. 






220 


dence which they produce. Moses is not an¬ 
swerable for the fondness which they disco¬ 
vered for the marvellous, nor for the fables 
which tradition blended with his history. Nei¬ 
ther is their account of that which they saw, 
to be rejected for the easy credit which they 
gave to that which they only heard, and heard 
from disputable authority. While the facts of 
the Mosaic history are confirmed, his superior 
purity, and consequently credibility, is estab¬ 
lished. 

Among the moderns, Bisselius in his treatise 
on illustrious ruins, and a great number of tra¬ 
vellers, have described this singular lake. Maim- 
drell, Volney, Pococke, Shaw, and other men of 
eminence, have communicated to the public 
the result of their observations. 

Alexander Trallianus mentions an heathen 
form of exorcism, that confirms the scripture 
representation of the calamity which which over¬ 
took Lot's wife. It runs thus—“ In the name 
“ of God, who turned Lot’s wife into a pillar 
of salt*,” We have yet to examine 


* Dodd. Lect. part.. VI. Prop. cix. Demon. 7. page 294, 
quarto edition. Consult Grot. deVerit. Sect. xvi. in not. See also, 
for the whole of these quotations, note 3, at the end of this 
Lecture, 








221 


!tl. THE EVIDENCES REMAINING ON TIIE SPOT. 

\ r i ,* * ■* 

We remark 

1. The appearance of the lake, and 

OF THE SURROUNDING COUNTRY, HAS BEEN 

very similar in every age. It lias carried 
the same mournful vestiges of destruction. Not 
only do the respective testimonies of ancient 
writers agree with each other, but the several 
subsequent representations of this fact, given 
in the Bible, accord entirely with the Mosaic 
history: a decisive proof that the spot has car¬ 
ried the same features of ruin from the first; 
and a pleasing evidence that the sacred writings 
preserve the most perfect harmony with them¬ 
selves. A selection of a few passages, written 
at various and distinct periods, will exhibit the 
appearances of these desolated cities, as they 
presented themselves to the different writers; 
and will furnish a coincidence and concord which 
truth alone can produce. It is worthy con¬ 
sideration, that, in these several passages, ap¬ 
peals are made to this fact as an event well 
known, and a subject on which the world were, 
at that time, able to obtain ample satisfaction, 
by visiting, and considering, the spot itself. 
Moses refers the Israelites of his day, to the 


appearance which these wasted plains then pre¬ 
sented, as an image of what their own pos¬ 
sessions would become if they disobeyed the 
commands of God. He threatens—“ The gene- 
44 ration to come of your children that shall 
44 rise up after you, and the stranger that shall 
44 come from a far land, shall say, when they see 
44 the plagues of that land, and the sicknesses 
44 which the Lord hath laid upon it; and that 
44 the whole land thereof is brimstone , and salt , 
44 and burning , that it is not sown , nor beareth, 
44 nor any grass groweth therein , like the over- 
“ throw of Sodom, and Gomorrah, Ad- 

44 MAH, AND ZeBOIM, WHICH THE LORD OVER- 
44 THREW IN HIS ANGER, AND IN HIS WRATH.* * 

44 even all the nations shall say, Wherefore hath 
44 the Lord done thus unto this land? what 
44 meaneth the heat of this great anger? Then 
44 men shall say, Because they have forsaken 
44 the covenant of the Lord God of their fa- 
44 thers, which he made with them when he 
44 brought them forth out of the land of Egypt*.” 
When Babylon is threatened, another appeal 
is made to this event, as to a fact well known, 
and indisputably authenticated. Isaiah pro¬ 
claims her fall, and this is her awful sentence : 

LL_ ... ■ ■-UL- . JLJ_... - - ■ 


* Deut. xxix. QQ —25. 







223 


*• Babylon, the glory of kingdoms, the beauty 
“ of the Chaldees' excellency, shall be as when 
“ God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah. 
“ It shall never be inhabited , neither shall it be 
“ dwelt in from generation to generation: nei- 
“ ther shall the Arabian pitch tent there, neither 
<£ shall the shepherds make their fold there*.” 
Jeremiah beheld the same face of things, when 
he made these ruins prefigure the downfall of 
Edom. “ Edom shall be a desolation: every 
“ one that goeth by it shall be astonished, and 
“ shall hiss at all the plagues thereof. As in 
“ the overthrow of Sodom and Gomorrah, 
“ and the neighbouring cities thereof, saith the 
“ Lord, no man shall abide there, neither shall 
“ the son of man dwell in Jesus, who is 

Truth itself, appeals to the same desolation, and 
to all its circumstances, as an image of his own 
visitation of the Jewish nation.— u As it was 
“ in the days of Lot; they did eat, they drank, 
“ they bought, they sold, they planted, they 

u budded: but the same day that Lot went out 

' «/ 

“ of Sodom, it rained fire and brimstone 
“ from heaven, and destroyed them all. Even 
“ thus shall it be in the day when the Son of 


* Is. xiu. 19, 20. 


Jer. xlix. 17, 18. L. 4Q. 




224 


“ man is revealed. In that day, he which shall 
“ be upon the house top*, and his stuff in the 
“ house, let him not come down to take it away: 
“ and he that is in the field, let him likewise 
“ not return back. Remember Lot’s wiFEjT’ 
The apostle Peter, in the passage read at the 
commencement of this Lecture, admits this fact 
into the catalogue of divine judgments against 
iniquity; and represents the offended and in¬ 
sulted Deity, “ Turning the cities of Sodom 
“ and Gomorrah into ashes, condemning 
“ them with an overthrow, and making them 
“ an ensample unto those that after should live 
“ ungodly.” While the writers of the scriptures 
thus strengthen one another, they evince that 
the same characteristic ruin, has through all 
ages, overspread the same country. We ob¬ 
serve 

2. There remain correspondent fea¬ 
tures OF desolation on the spot to this 
day. It is readily admitted, that travellers who 
visit the country in question are liable to be 
deceived; and that in many instances the in- 


* These houses had flat roofs, and an ascent to them on the 

r 

outside : of course a person at the top -would descend without en¬ 
tering the house. 

f Luke xvii 28—32. 






225 


habitants of the surrounding regions have im¬ 
posed upon them. Josephus has asserted that 
the pillar of salt was to be seen in his days, and 
that he actually saw it. It is disputable, how 
far this testimony may be received; not that we 
bring the charge of wilful misrepresentation 
against him, but that it is probable he was himself 
deceived. The same credulity which led him to 
admit the account of a sabbatical river, would 
easily induce him, visiting the lake, as he did, 
with a mind prepossessed in favour of some such 
monument of antiquity remaining, to mistake 
some rude, mishapen rock, for a crumbling frag¬ 
ment of the pillar of which Moses speaks. 
Nevertheless, we think that the general features 
of the country, and particularly the lake, are 
standing memorials of this awful fact. Some 
indeed have denied that the cities stood upon 
this spot. But it must be admitted that the 
universal appearance of the land sanctions the 
common opinion, that here judgment was ex¬ 
ecuted against the unrighteous inhabitants of 
Sodom. The description of the face of that 
unhappy country, given in the passages which 
we have quoted from the scriptures, and tran¬ 
scribed from ancient historians, accords well 
with the whole aspect of the vicinity of the 
Dead Sea, The country is stripped of herbage ; 

Q 


the lake, and the soil, are salt and bituminous; 
and vegetable life seems extinct on all it’s bor¬ 
ders. -It would be difficult to fix upon any 
other spot in the known world, to which the 
principal features of the narrative would apply. 
It is to be supposed, from the uniform language 
of the Bible, that the destruction of these 
cities was to be a lasting monument of divine 
displeasure against their wickedness : conse¬ 
quently that strong vestiges of their desolation 
should remain through every age. It is certain 
that all the ancient historians who have advert¬ 
ed at all to this singularly awful display of 
divine justice, have also fixed upon this place, 
as the theatre on which it was exhibited. It is 
no less remarkable, that all who have described 
this lake, and it’s vicinity, have connected with it 
a tradition, more or less explicit, respecting the 
destruction of the cities of the plain; and some 
of them were men to whom it is scarcely proba- 

r • 

ble, that the writings of Moses were accessible ; 
mid who must therefore have received the 
knowledge of the event through some other 
Channel. May we not also reasonably suppose 
that some changes have been effected by time, 
-which have considerably altered the aspect, and 
e.ren the properties of the waters, since the 
-ancient writers, whom we have quoted, visited 
this laud of barren solitude? Time,- which al* 


ters the whole globe, and overturns empires, 
would not spare the Dead Sea, and it’s deserted, 
naked shores! Jordan perpetually rolls his tide 
to this gulf: streams of fresh water are conti¬ 
nually pouring into it: the Arabs diminish if s 
salt, by draining it’s water into large pits near the 
lake, leaving it be crystallized by the sun; and 
it’s bitumen is gathered by the same people, 
whose ingenuity applies it to many purposes, 
and who convert it into an article of commerce. 
We still think, that the spot manifests marked 
features of desolation at this hour ; and the lake 
is said to be about thirty miles long, and ten 
miles broad. 

Before this subject is entirely dismissed, per¬ 
mit us to make two remarks, which appear to 
arise out of it. 

1. Judgments delayed will* yet even¬ 
tually be executed. To other sins, the un¬ 
godly add that of presumption. Because se¬ 
renity reigns over the face of the heavens, they 
apprehend no evil — they conclude that the 
tempest will never rise. When the cloud ap¬ 
pears “ like a man’s hand,” they flatter them¬ 
selves that it will extend no farther. When 
you warn them of their danger, and foretel 
their approaching ruin, they regard you as 
“ one that mocketb.” Even when the heavens 

q 2 




228 


are overspread with blackness, and the thunder 
of indignation begins to roll, they imagine that 
the storm will spend itself, and that the gloom 
will pass away. But the day will arrive when 
the Saviour shall appear “ to be admired in 
“ them that believe,” and to return on the 
head of his adversaries the evil which they have 
devised against his dignity; and that day shall 
“ burn as an oven*.” In vain shall the un¬ 
righteous then cry for help, and seek a refuge 
from the wrath of their judge. In vain shall 
they turn to the east, the west, the north, or 
the south ; every where the sword of justice 
meets their eye—every where the tribunal of 
God rises before their sight—every where the 
clangour of the last trumpet assails their ears— 
and the grave itself forms no shelter from the 
gaze of Omnipotence ! In vain shall they call 
upon the rocks to fall on them, and the moun¬ 
tains to cover them: the earth and the heavens 
shall flee from the face of “ Him that sittetlv 
“ upon the throne.” “ Now is the accepted 
“ time: behold, now is the dav of salvation!” 

£. Security, in every situation, belongs 
to the friends of God. You have seen Noah 
floating securely on the bosom of a destroying 


* Seii holm 4, at the end of this Lecture,. 










flood, while the whole world perished. You 
have beheld Lot safely conducted out of Sodom, 
when the inhabitants of the plain, and the per¬ 
verse scoffers of his own family, were consumed. 
AVhat is the language of this dreadful event to 
the respective classes of mankind? To the 
“ ungodly” it is saying—“ Behold, ye despisers, 
“ and wonder, and perish !” To you, who cast 
your eyes over these desolated plains, it cries— 
** Escape for your life”—flee to a refuge more 
secure than the mountain—and hide under the 
shadow of the cross ! But what is it's testimony 
respecting the people of God ? “ They shall not 
“ be afraid for the terror by night: nor for 
“ the arrow that flieth by day: nor for the 
“ pestilence that walketh in darkness: nor for 
“ the destruction that wasteth at noonday. A 
“ thousand shall fall at their side, and ten 
u thousand at their right hand : but it shall not 
“ come nigh them! Only with their eyes shall 
“ they behold, and see the reward of the 
“ wicked.” The last storm which shall arise 
to blot out the sun, to extinguish the stars, to 
rend the sepulchre, and to raise the dead, shall 
waft them to an everlasting kingdom. They 
shall meet the Lord in the air: they shall be 
changed into his image : they shall appear with 
him in glory. 

O Christian, death is advancing to conduct 

Q 3 


230 


thee home, to terminate thine afflictions, and 
to hide thee for ever from the storms of life! 
Even now the moment arrives! Hark — the 
trampling of the horses at the door—and the 
" chariot of fire” waits to bear thee to heaven! 

| 4 


f ‘ W 4 ^ { i. 






I 



NOTES. 


;.s 

iifri 


Note 1.— Testimony to the fact that the Chaldeans worshipped 
fire, extracted from the works of the pious and eloquent Saurin.— 
“ Voici un passage remarquable de Rufin* touchant l’idolatrie des 
** Chaldeens: le temoignage de cet auteur est confirm^ par celui de 
e( Suidasf. 

“ On dit que les Chaldeens porterent autrefois le feu, qui £toit 
1 leur Dieu, par toutes les provinces, pour combattre avec toutes les 

* autres divinitez, afin que celle qui triompheroit dans ce combat fut 

* censee la veritable. Les Dieux d’air, d’or, d’argent, de bois, et de 

* pierre, (koient facilement cousumez par le feu, qui avoit la supe- 
1 riofite par tout. Un sacrificateur de Canope s’avisa de cette ruse. 

* Les Egyptiens ont certains vases de terre qui ont de petites ouver- 

* tures de tous cotez, et qui sunt destinez fi filtrer l’eau du Nil. II 
4 remplit d’eau un de ces vas^s: il en ferma toutes les ouvertures 

* avec de la cire : il y attacha une tete qu'on disoit &tre celle de M6- 
‘ nclas, et il ferigea en Divinity. Les Chalddens allumbrent du feu 
1 autour de ce vase, afin que ces deux Divinitez combattissent en- 

* scmble. Mais le feu ayant aussi-t6t fondu la cire qui bouchoit 
*• l'ouverture de la cruche, il fut incontinent 4teint par l 7 eau qui en 
1 sortit, et le sacrificateur de Canope remporta la victoire.’ 

“ Ce sont les paroles de Rufin.* 7 

Saur. Disc, sur la Bible , Tome 1. disc. xi.p. 78. 



• Rufin Hist. Eccl. Lib. II. cap. xxvi. p. 202. 
+ Suidas sur le mot Canopus. Tom. I. p. 239* 








NOTES. 


‘ 23*2 

* l There is a remarkable passage in Rufin respecting the idolatry 
of the Chaldeans: the testimony of this author is confirmed by that rf 
Suidas: 

‘ They say thut the Chaldeans formerly carried fire, which a as 
their God, through all the provinces , to contend with all the other 
divinities, that whoever conquered in this combat might be deemed the 
true one. The deities of air, of gold, of silver, ofwood, and of stone, 
were easily consumed by the fire, which had the superiority over all. 
A priest of Canopus bethought himself of this stratagem. The Egyp¬ 
tians had certain vases of earth , which had little apertures an all sides, 
and which zeere designed to filtrate the water of the Nile. He filled 
one of these vases with water : he closed all the holes of it with zeax: 
he placed a head upon it, which was said to be that of Menelaus, and 
he exalted it to a divinity. The Chaldeans kindled the fire round this 
vase, that these two deities might contend together. But the fire hav¬ 
ing quickly melted the wax zohich covered the aperture of the pitcher, 
it was presently extinguished by the zoater which issued from it, and 
the priest of Canopus obtained the victory 

u These are the words of Rufin.'’ 

This quotation refers to page 191, of the preceding Lecture. 

Note 2.—There is a singular coincidence between the language 
used by the Deity, in his conference with Abraham, and the words 
which Ovid puts into the mouth of his Jupiter. In the one case, it 
is to be considered altogether as a figure of speech, for the Deity 
could obtain no additional information, by descending in a humau 
form: in the latter instance, the poet speaks in exact conformity to 
the ideas which the heathens entertained of the limited knowledge of 
their divinities. We will lay the passages together. 

• A tf I i • M ’*,» 1! j * * , \ w t ' 1 t . ,; ‘ / ,* , 

Moses. 

u And the Lord said, Because the cry of Sodom and Gomorrah is 
“ great, and because their sin is very grievous: I will go dozen non, 
a and sec w hether they have done altogether according to the cry oi 
** it, which is come unto me; and if not, I will know.” 

Gen . xvHi . 20, 2L 


l 


NOTE'S. 


23 $ 


Ovid. 

Contigercit nostras infamia temporis cmres: 

•Qoam cupiensfalsam, summo delabor Olympo, 

Ft Deus humana lustro sub imagine terras. 

Ovid. ]\kt. lib. i. 2 U—213. 


The infamy of the times had reached ouft ears : wishing if 
i night be palse, / descended from high Olympus, and, a God, 1 
passed through the earth under a human form. These remarks 
apply to page of 204, of the preceding Lecture. 

£*ote 3.—The several testimonies collected from different ancient 
writers, respecting the lake Asphultitcs and it’s vicinity, with the tra¬ 
ditions of it’s destruction by fire. 

. From Tacitus;—“ Hand procul inde carnpi, quos feruut oliia 

uberes mnguisque urbibus habitatQS, fulminum juctu arsissc* 
u et manere vestigia, tcrramque specie torrid am, vim frugiferam, 
u perdidisse.” • 

Tacit. Hist, lib . v. 

Translated in page 217, of the preceding Lecture. 

From Diodorus Siculus. O* ol irXxcricv roro ^, l/ATnwof uv xcu 

J?, TTOHiTCll 7a, ffUU.Ot.7CC 7U9 aib^UTTUI ITtiyOffU, y.OU 7TXfTeXu; 
o\iyovgon&. 

Hiod. Sic. lib. it. 

O’ & irXrioiov 7 ottos, i/a irveoq uv, kou $vc , 9ro»a rx ffup.xrac 
n&v 7T £ g H) Hitt via* iTriyocra r. xi 7f<xtleXu<; Ixiyo^oytx. 

Hiod. Sic. lib. rtr. 

Translated in page 218, of the preceding Lecture. 


From Strabo. T« tpurv^oy, r x^ X¥ rx rtxp.watt 
(piga&t 7roXXx' Kcct yx (3 7r£7ga<; rna? hrntey.xvui*oeixnufft r^x^tixe 
irtgi MxoxS'x, y.on ffv^yyxs toXXo^S, y.xt yvy re<p%u$n, alxyoyxf re 
■jricrcnjj- Ik Xu raaci'uv Xt^opLtvxq, xxt ovffu^nq iroppuQty vclxfxi^ ^soflaq, 

xxlotxlxq uyoilt7^Xfxpty^i cntQ(>xl)ry uo\e irtolevetr 7 o<? §gvXXup.e* oi ( 
V7TQ 7uv £yxu)(>kuv, xgx u> y.ttylo 'role rgiffy.xtdexx TroXen; etlxvffx, <«/» 
rijS /4vflgo7 roXeu$ Eo3o/a uv aufp \70 xvkXos il'vtx.ovlxra alxStut* bro fftiff- 
p.u» Tf Koti &v%<pvoQfAxTu't n rv^ej x«» StgpafP bfixiut kcrtyxlftu$uv rs xoct 


234 


NOTES.. 


SituSun y TT^oTrtVo» xai 7r/r^a» ‘jn^iPujTrlcu yentflo' ati te 7rcXiis 

al ptv xcclcmoSuiv, «? exAeittoiei/ ol ^vvxpivoi (pvytiv. 

Strabo, lib «, xvi% 

Translated in page 218, of the preceding Lecture. 


From Soi. in us. u Longo ab Hierosolymis recessu tristis sinus 
u panditur, quem cle coelo tactum testatur humus nigra et in cinerem 
u soluta. Duo ibi oppida, Sodoma nominatum alterum, alterum 
u Gomorruua.” 

Solinus , cap. xxxvi. edit. Salmasiana. 

Translated in page 219, of the preceding Lecture. 

Many travellers bear a testimony to the unhealthiness of the air 
about the lake : the monks who live in the neighbourhood, would 
have dissuaded Dr. Pococke from bathing in these singular waters ; 
he ventured in, however, and was, two days after, seized with a diz¬ 
ziness, and violent pain in the stomach, which lasted nearly three 
weeks, and which they imputed to his rashness; nor does he con¬ 
tradict them. 


Note 4. —The day of judgment is a doctrine of Christianity: yet 
is it worthy remark, that the heathens cherished some vague opinions, 
and held some uncertain traditions, that the earth, and the orbs 
around us, .are to be consumed by fire, as the following extracts will 
prove. 

—■-Sic, cum compage soluta 

Secula tot mundi suprema coegerit hora, 

Antiquum repetent iterum chaos omnia; mixtis 
Sidera sideribus concurrent: ignea pontum 
Astra petent: tellus extendere litora noJet, 

Excutietque fretum: fratri contraria Phoebe 
Ibi, et obliquum bigas agitare per orbem 
Indignata, diem poscet sibi: totaque discors 
Machina divulsi turbabit feedera mundi. 

Lucan. Phars. lib. i. v. 72—80. 

When fate commands the final hour, 

And conquering Time’s resistless power 
Dissolves creation’s frame: 



NOTES. 23 ; 

Stars mix’d with stars shall vainly try , 

In ocean’s boundless waves, to fly 
The universal flame. 

The land no more shall guard the sea, 

The moon shall strive to rule the day, • 

The shatter’d sphere shall burn: 

The whole machine to ruin hurl’d, 

Discord shall triumph o’er the world. 

And chaos shall return. 

u Sidera sideribus incurrent, et omni flagrante materia, uno igne, 
“ quicquid nunc ex disposito lucet, ardebjt.” 

Seneca , fine ad Marciam. 

Stars shall rush upon stars : every thing material shall be consumed; 
and whatever now shines hi order , shall perish in one common fire! 

Ovid represents his Jupiter, when resolved to punish the earth, 
choosing water, and checking his thunder, for the following reason;. 
Sed timuit, ne forte sacer tot ab ignibus aether, 

C-onciperet flammas, longusque ardesceret axis. 

Esse quoque in fatis reminiscitur, affore tempos, 

Quo mare, quo tell us, correptaque regia cceli 
Ardeat; et mundi moles operosa laboret. 

Ovid . Met. lib. i. 254—258. 

' • 

He stopt, for fear, thus violently driv’n, 

The sparks should catch his axle-tree of heav’n. 

Rcmemb’ring in the fates, a time when fire 
Should to the battlements of heav’n aspire, 

And all his blazing worlds above should burn, 

And all th’ inferior globe to cinders turn. 

Dryden — Garth y s Ovid. b. i. 1 . 346— 350. 

This note is referred to in page 228, of the preceding Lecture. 


♦ k ■ . ■ . . . > 


w < 



"36 


LECTURE VI. 

! ’ ’ 

^HE HISTORY OF JOSEPH. 

• '* T i .'*1 4 • 


tiENESIS XLIX. 22—2& 

* . "• J ' * • . 

Joseph is a fruitful bough , ere;* a fruitful bough 
bp a well; whose branches run over the wall: 
The archers have sorely grieved him , #;;*/ shot 
at him , hated him: But his bozc abode in 

strength , #;?</ ?/;e arm,? of his hands were made 
strong by the hands of the mighty God of Ja¬ 
cob ; (from thence is the shepherd , the stone of 
Israel:) Even by the God of thy father , who 
shall help thee ; and by the Almighty , who shall 
bless thee with the blessings of heaven above , 
blessings of the deep that lieth under , blessings 
of the breasts , of the womb : The blessings 

of thy father have prevailed above the blessings 
of thy progenitor's unto the utmost bound of the 
everlasting hills: they shall be on the head of 




237 

Joseph , and on the crown of the head of him 
that was separate from his brethren, 

acts vii. 9—1 6 . 

And the patriarchs , moved with envy, sold Joseph 
into Egypt: but God was zvith him , and deli¬ 
vered him out of all his afflictions , and gave 
him favour and zvisdom in the sight of Pharaoh , 
king of Egypt; and he made him governor over 
Egypt and all his house. Note there came a 
dearth over all the land of Egypt and Canaan , 
and great affliction: and our fathers found no 
sustenance. But when Jacob heard that there 
was corn in Egypt , he sent out our fathers 
first. And at the second time Joseph was made 
known to his brethren; and Joseph's kindred 
was made knozvn unto Pharoah. Then sent Jo¬ 
seph , and called his father Jacob to him, and all 
his kindred, threescore and ffteen souls. So 
Jacob wait down into Egypt , and died\ he , and 
§ur fathers, and zee re carried over into Sychem , 
and laid in the sepulchre that Abraham bought 
for a sum of money of the sons of Emmor , the 
father of Sychem . 

* 

To enter at Large into the beautiful history 
that connects the preceding Lecture with the 


238 


subject which we are about to propose for con* 
sideration, is not practicable ; we must there¬ 
fore imitate travellers in a foreign country, 
whose limited time will not permit them to pass 
through the land in the length and the breadth 
of it—we must enquire what things are most 
worthy our regard, and to them bend our atten¬ 
tion. There are two events previous to the 
history of Joseph, which require us to pause, 
and to indulge the common feelings of nature, 
and which cannot fail to impress, because they 
speak at once to the heart. It is impossible to 
pass through Canaan without turning aside to 
the land of Moriah, and contemplating the sa¬ 
cred mountain on which a patriarch’s faith 
triumphed over a father’s feelings. According 
to the promise of God, Isaac was born when 
Abraham was an hundred years old. He had 
seen his son preserved from the perils of infancy. 
His mother had gazed with unspeakable plea¬ 
sure upon her child—the son of her vows, who 
was now fast pressing towards manhood. The 
parents of this amiable youth were looking for¬ 
wards to a peaceful dismission from the toils of 
life, and to the happy termination of a tranquil 
old age. Abraham “ planted a grove in Beer- 
“ sheba,’’ and rested under it's shadow. This 

y r \ * <* , • 

quiet retreat, alas, is not impervious to sorrow ! 
This delightful serenity resembles the stillness 


239 

of the air which usually precedes a tempest—it 
bodes approaching trial. “ And it came to pass 
ei after these things, that God did tempt Abra- 
u ham, and said unto him—Take now thy son, 
“ thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and 
“ get thee into the land of Moriah: and offer 
c ‘ him there for a burnt-offering upon one of 
w the mountains which I shall tell thee of.”— 
What a command was this ! To stain his hand 
With the blood of a lamb which he had fed, 
would be a task to a feeling mind; but the re¬ 
quisition is for a “ Son.” To select one from 
a numerous family, would be a cruel effort. Let 
the mother look round upon her children, when 
they are assembled before her like a flock, and 
say, which she could spare from among them ? 
But the demand is, “ take thine only son”—in 
whom the life of both parents is bound up. To 
part with an only child for a season, opens the 
fountain of a mothers tears, and adds to the 
grey hairs of his father. To lose him by death, 
is to cause them to go bitterly in the anguish of 
their soul all their days. What was it, then, 
to offer an only son as a sacrifice, and to be 
himself the priest who should plunge the knife 
into his bosom ? But he obeys—obeys without a 
murmur! He rises early in the morning to im¬ 
molate-his child, and to offer, on the altar of 
-God, ail that he held most dear in this world. 


240 


On the third dav, the destined mountain marks 
its elevation along the line of the horizon, and 
meets the eye of the afflicted parent. The ser¬ 
vants are not permitted to witness the awful 
scene, the solemnity of which they might dis¬ 
turb by lamentations—or the execution ot which 
they might prevent by force—or, wanting their 
master’s faith, might draw from it inferences 
unfavourable to religion. At this moment, to 
awaken in his bosom extreme torture, “ Isaac 
“ spake unto Abraham his father and said, My 
" father: and he said, here am I, my son. And 
“ he said, Behold, the fire and the wood: but 
4< where is the lamb for a burnt-offering? And 
<£ Abraham said, My son, God shall provide 
“ himself a lamb for a burnt-offering: so they 
“ went both of them together.”—But we will no 
longer attempt to scent the violet, and to paint 
fhe rainbow. We must draw a veil over the 
scene: for who can enter into a father's anguish 
as he raised his hand against his child? and 
who shall he bold enough to attempt a descrip¬ 
tion of his rapture, when heaven, which had 
put his faith to so severe a trial, commanded 
him to forbear, and indeed provided itself a 
victim? , - ; 

Before we enter upon the immediate subject 
of this evenings discussion, humanity requires 
us to drop a tear, also, over the grave of the 


241 


once lovely Sarah, who “ died in Kirjath-arba. 
Twelve years after the trial of his faith, this 
heavy stroke of calamity fell upon him ; “ and 
Abraham came to mourn for Sarah, and to 
weep for her.”—Let not the unfeeling, and 
the gay, break in upon the sacred privacy of 
domestic sorrow! It is not the semblance of 
grief, which spreads a cloud over the forehead 
of yonder venerable patriarch: real and un¬ 
affected anguish causes those tears to flow. 
She had been long the companion of his life—- 
she had shared his joys and sorrows—she had 
sojourned in tents with him, a stranger in a 
strange land—she had regarded him with fond¬ 
ness up to her hundred and twenty-seventh 
year. Her communion and friendship had 
sweetened his distresses, and lightened his 
labours. The dissolving of this long connec¬ 
tion was loosening the fibres which entwined 
about his heart; and while he exhibited the re¬ 
signation of a saint, he felt as a man. Before 
“ the cave of the field of Machpelah” closes 
its mouth for ever upon the precious dust, let 
the young and the beautiful come, and look, 
for the last time, upon the person whose love¬ 
liness had kindled desire in every bosom, and 
had more than once ensnared her husband. Let 
them gaze upon the dishonour of that cheek, 
which even time had respected, and age had 

a 


242 


spared. Let them learn a lesson of humility'* 
while they behold the triumphs of death, and 
hear a husband entreating “ a possession of a 
“ burying-place, that he may bury his dead out 
“ of his sight,” and hide that form from his 
eyes, which he had never before beheld but with 
rapturous delight! 

We pass over the events which occupied the 
few remaining years of the life of Abraham, 
and the interesting account of the marriage of 
Isaac. We leave his two sons, to bury in the 
grave of their father their mutual animosilies ; 
and we commit the dust of that patriarch in 
silence, to rest by the side of his beloved Sarah* 
till the morning of the resurrection. We pass 
over the life of Isaac, whose disposition, ac¬ 
cording with the kind dispensations of Provi¬ 
dence, led him to prefer the tranquillity of 
domestic life, to the noise of state, and to the 
applause of fame; and who was “ a plain man, 
“ dwelling in tents.” In the bosom of his 
family, old age stole upon him, and he heard 
the voice of years calling him to rest with his- 
father Abraham. The fraud of Jacob, and the 
sanguinary disposition of Esau, must alike be 
overlooked ; nor can we pause to comment 
upon that, which might furnish so much’in¬ 
struction—the sad consequences of the decep¬ 
tion which he practised upon his father* Sin 


243 


necessarily brings with it it's own punishment; 
and it made even this favoured child an alien 
from his father's house, and worse than a ser¬ 
vant in the family of an avaricious, unfeeling, 
unprincipled relation. His mother, whose par¬ 
tiality to him projected and executed the plan 
for which they both suffered so much in the 
event, advised him to flee into Mesopotamia, 
and to “ tarry for a few days with his uncle 
“ Laban, till his brother’s fury should turn 
“ away.” Alas! more than twenty years elapsed, 
while he was a sojourner at Padan-aram; and 
when he returned to the tent of his father, the 
maternal anxieties and sorrows of Rebekah, were 
buried with her, deep, and silent, in the dust 

of death! We must drop these instructive re- 

* 

cords, and meet Jacob restored to his father, 
just in time to close his eyes ; and regarding 
him henceforward but as the father of Joseph, 
we must bring forwards so much of his history 
only, as is interwoven with the life and trials 
of his beloved son. 

Rachel had said, “ Give me children, or else 
“ I die!” How little do we know when our 
petitions are profitable to us, and when they 
will prove injurious, if answered in our own 
way! Not through the rejection, but in the 
fulfilment, of her desire—Rachel dies! That 
pillar, which solicits the eye of the traveller in 

r 2 


244 


the way to Epliratli, tells a mournful story- 
It says, 4 that the hand of affection elevated 
4 it, as a memorial of departed joys, to point 
4 out the spot where a husband lost the delight 
• of his eyes, taken away at a stroke : that a 
4 mother was slain upon her bed by the accom- 
4 plishment of her wish : that the cup of anti- 
4 cipated pleasure was dashed from her pale 
4 lips before she tasted it’s sweetness; and that 
4 the man-child, so long desired as the summit 
4 of her earthly ambition, was named, as her 
4 soulwas in departing, Bexon i P This rs it’s 
sad inscription—and this is the grave of the mo¬ 
ther of Joseph! 

Introduced under these circumstances, how 
interesting lie appears to every feeling mind I 
A child robbed of his mother, excites universal 
commiseration, and commands affection from 
every bosom. We look forwards with anxiety 
to every future period of his life; and our pray¬ 
ers, and our hopes, attend every step of Ilia 
journey. We mingle our tears with his, on the 
grave of her, whose maternal heart has ceased 
to beat: for we feel that lie is bereaved of the 
friend and guide of his youth ! His father would, 
but cannot, supply her loss. In vain the whole 
circle of his friendships blend their efforts to 
alleviate his sorrows, and to fill the place occu¬ 
pied by departed worth; a mother must be 


245 


missed every moment, by a child who has ever 
known, and rightly valued one, when she sleeps 
in the grave. No hand feels so soft as hers— 
no voice sounds so sweet—no smile is so plea¬ 
sant ! Never shall he find again, in this wide 
wilderness, such sympathy, such fondness, such 
fidelity, such tenderness, as he experienced from 
his mother! The whole world are moved with 
compassion for that motherless child : but the 
whole world cannot supply her place to him !— 
And to interest your feelings, you are first made 
acquainted with Joseph, at a period when he 
had lost the smile, and the superintendence, of 
his mother! 

The history of his life opens upon us, also, 
when he was of an age to command affection, 
and to excite solicitude. “ Joseph, being seven- 
<£ teen years old, was feeding the flock with 
“ his brethren.” A youth of seventeen is placed 
in delicate, and dangerous, circumstances: he 
feels new passions and desires: he is assailed by 
new scenes and temptations: lie is entering the 
most perilous path of life, with an immature 
judgment, a vivid and deceptive imagination, 
a mind inexperienced and impressible; and his 
whole life will be deeply affected by the habits 
which he forms, and the principles which he 
assumes, at this early period. He, who has 
weathered the storms, and experienced the wilg$ 

r 3 


246 ’ 


of life, feels much solicitude for the unsuspi¬ 
cious youth in taking this first step, which 
may, perhaps, for ever afterwards, decide his 
character. The selection of his society is an 
important concern : he will be moulded into 
their image, and will be deeply influenced by 
their example. Joseph associated with his bre¬ 
thren; and it is fit, it is desirable, that “ bre- 
“ thren should dwell together in unity;” but 
experience teaches, that brethren are not always 
the most suitable companions for each other : 
too much is frequently expected on both sides, 
of compliance, submission, or attention, and 
the bonds of peace are broken asunder. Some¬ 
thing like this, appears to have been the case in 
the family of Jacob : for “ the lad was with 
“ the sons of Bilhah, and with the sons of 
“ Zilpah, his father’s wives: and Joseph brought 
“ unto his father their evil report.” In this one 
instance, he does not appear in the most amia¬ 
ble light: for, in every point of view, a tale^ 
bearer is an odious, and a dangerous person. 

“ Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his 
“ children, because he was the son of his old 
“ age: and he made him a coat of many co- 
t( lours.” Here lies the secret spring of all the 
subsequent afflictions, both of the parent, and 
of the child! Could any thing excuse parental 
partiality, the reasons alledged would do it; but 


it is not to be excused; and he, who would 
keep his best beloved safely, must not make it 
known that he is the best beloved : for it is a 
piece of injustice, which nature, in the bosom 
of a brother, will never pardon. And the fond 
father must publish his weakness, by bestowing 
a mark of superior affection upon his darling 
boy, which would always meet the eye of his 
brethren, and never could be seen without ex¬ 
citing the worst of passions! Ah, Jacob! what 
are all the sufferings of thy younger life for- 
gotten ? Did not parental partiality drive thee 
from the shadow of a father's tent, and the 
embraces of a mother's arms, to want and to 
servitude? Yet all the afflictions which he en¬ 
dured in the service of Laban, and all that he 
apprehended from the murderous sword of Esau : 
all that he feared, and all that he felt; had not 
guarded his heart against the very weakness 
which had caused all his troubles. The result 
was, what might have been expected—“ When 
“ his brethren saw that his father loved him 
u more than all his brethren, they hated him, 
“ and could not speak peaceably unto him.” 
When a parent feels, and discovers, partiality 
to any one child above another, he himself is 
the cause of all the evil that shall arise, to 
wound his own peace, to render the object of 
his affection unamiable, to burst asunder the 

R 4 



248 


bonds of fraternal unity, to destro\ domestic 
harmony, and to promote discord, strife, envy, 
and “ every evil work.” 

God—“ who speaketh once, yea, twice, yet 

man perceiveth it not;” who, “ in a dream, 
“ in a vision of the night, when deep sleep 
“ falleth upon men, in slumberings upon the 
c; bed, openeth their ears, and sealeth their 
“ instruction”—foretold to Joseph, in two se¬ 
parate, yet similar dreams, his future greatness. 
Before the canon of scripture was completed, 
divine designs were made known in some more 
immediate channels; and such methods of com¬ 
munication, as those mentioned in this book, 
were frequent, before a written revelation was 
given, because they were necessary. 

With more of honest simplicity, and of 
childish exultation, than of wisdom, and of 
prudence, he related these dreams ; and the ran¬ 
cour, which already corroded fraternal affec¬ 
tion, was increased in the bosom of his envious 
brethren. They fed their flocks at a distance 
from home, and il is probable had been absent 
some days, when the affectionate heart of Jacob 
yearned to know of their welfare. lie resolved 
to send Joseph, to bear to them a parent’s 
enquiries, .and a parent’s blessing. He could 
not but have seen their smothered dislike to 
this amiable youth: he had surely heard their 



249 

half-suppressed murmurings : and, no doubt, lie 
marked them with fear and concern. It is not 
impossible that he reflected upon himself, for 
having, by his conduct, excited the ferment, 
which he was now anxious to allay; and, per¬ 
haps, he said in his heart—‘ By sending my 
4 child to enquire after their welfare, and 
‘ making him the servant of their convenience, 
L ' I shall wipe away their evil impressions 
‘ against him, and convince them of my regard 
6 for them" Little did he know the extent of 
the mischief which his partiality had effected; 
and as little did he appear to understand, that 
“ a brother offended is harder to be won than a 
<c strong city!” 

Behold, this lad in whom all his father’s af¬ 
fections centre, setting out from the vale of 
Hebron! Already have the trembling lips of 
Jacob pronounced, “ God be gracious to thee, 
(C my sonf—and now his aged eyes are follow¬ 
ing him in his way to Shechem. Did no pre¬ 
sentiment of evil shake his heart with unusual 
fears, when his faltering tongue said, “ fare- 
“ well?'’ Yonder youth, lightly treading the 
ground, and gaily pursuing the path which led 
him from his fathers tent for ever, and from 
his father’s presence for twenty-three years, ap¬ 
prehends no Approaching ill. And although his 


250 


enemies are cruel as death, there is One above, 
who shall deliver him from all their malice. 

Wandering from place to place, his weary 
feet draw nigh to Dothan; and lo, those whom 
he seeks are there, watching his approach. Did 
not his heart leap for joy, when he saw, once 
more, faces which he knew, and brethren whom 
he loved? With sentiments far different do they 
gaze upon the lively hope of their fathers old 
age! “ And when they saw him afar off, even 
“ before he came near unto them, they con- 
“ spired against him to slay him.” Ungrateful, 
and unnatural, that they were ! They could see 
a parent’s failings—but could not recognize his 
kindness! In the person of that beautiful youth, 
they only saw the favourite of their father: 
envy had so blinded their eyes, that they did 
not discover in him, a brother—“ bone of their 
“ bone, and flesh of their flesh.” 

How does one vice lead the way to another! 
The man who cherishes one evil passion cannot 
say where it will end ! lie, who begins a course 
of iniquity, cannot draw the line, and say, 
“ Thus far will I go, but no further!” The 
brethren of Joseph first admitted envy into 
their bosoms. After lying long, and being 
cherished there, it generated the thought of 
bloodshed; and the minds that* entertained 
without pity the idea of murder, easily com 


251 


irived a lie to impose upon their abused father. 

And they said one to another, Behold, this 
“ dreamer cometh. Come now therefore, and 
u let us slay him, and cast him into some pit; 

and we will say, some evil beast hath devoured 
“ him: and we shall see what will become of 
his dreams!” 

Remorseless, and abandoned, as were this band 
of ruffians (for who can pollute the sacred name 
of brethren by applying it to murderers r) it ap¬ 
pears that amongst them there was wze, in whom 
the flame of duty, and affection, was not wholly 
extinguished. Reuben, retained in liis bosom 
a small portion of respect for his venerable and 
tried parent, of love to his innocent brother, of 
the common feelings of humanity; and lie 
counselled them not to kill him, but to deposit 
him in some pit; secretly intending to deliver 
him from their hands, and to restore him to his 
father. 

There is one thing worthy your attention, 
and which renders their conduct the more cruel 
and unjust, that, whatever might be the par¬ 
tiality of Jacob, Joseph does not appear to have 
assumed any thing in consequence of it, nor 
to have carried himself towards his brethren 
with insolence. For aught that appears on the 
sacred page, he seems ever to have treated them 
with the utmost affection, and to have borne 


252 

Ills exaltation, in his father's family, with meek¬ 
ness. 

They stripped him of his coat, and having 
cast him into a pit, “ sat down to eat bread!” 
At this moment, a company of Ishmaelites 
passed by. And Judah said, “ What profit is 
it if we slay our brother? come, let us sell him 
to the Ishmaelites !”•—Who does not blush to be 
a partaker of human nature ?—of that nature, 
which could coldly join the purpose of murder 
with satisfying the common cravings of hunger 
—and not only unite the sacred name of bro¬ 
ther with the design of reducing that brother 
to the condition of a slave—but, to make the 
frightful picture complete, added to all the rest 
the insatiable claims of avarice, and consulted 
which method of disposing of their own “ flesh” 
would bring them the most “ profit V —Surely in 
these bosoms nothing human was left unde¬ 
stroyed!— To this vile proposal the brethren 
consented (one only being absent;) and they 
sold their brother to the Ishmaelites for twenty 
pieces of silver. The absent brother returned 
in an agony from the pit whence the child was 
taken, and lamented his loss, with feelings 
worthy of him, and with a sincerity that will 
one day shield him from the pangs of con¬ 
science, which those unrelenting bosoms shall 
feel. 


253 


It now remained, that they should complete 
their purpose, and finish their unnatural plan, 
by deceiving their too confiding father, and by 
persuading him, that his beloved child was de¬ 
voured by some wild beast. This was accord¬ 
ingly done. A kid was killed, and the fatal 
pledge of parental affection dyed in blood. 

I see the venerable old man waiting at the 
door of his tent for the return of his beloved 
boy! He says to himself—‘ Several hours have 
* elapsed since he departed! he might have 
; returned long ere now! The shadows of the 
4 evening are falling fast! lie will be bewil- 
‘ dered in his path ! Why is he so long in 
‘ coming? Surelv he is safe! 5 —Now he walks 
a little way from the door of his tent to meet 
him; and his eyes, far more active than his 
feet, cast many a wishful, anxious look, towards 
Shechem. At length, a company is seen at a 
distance—-his eager gaze impatiently examines 
them. ‘ Yes’—he exclaims with exultation— 
‘ they cux my sons’—and his heart leaps for 
joy! As they approach, all his fears, and anxie¬ 
ties, return with tenfold weight upon him. In 
vain he runs over the whole company with his 
eye, in search of the object of his affection— 
Joseph is not with them—and they draw near 
to confirm, too sadly confirm, his worst appre¬ 
hensions ! The blood-stained robe met the dis- 


254 


traded sight of the wretched parent. Most 
probably, hypocrisy shrouded the countenance 
of these unnatural sons, with the borrowed 
mantle of seeming sorrow. Their tale of fals- 
hood is told : the witness of their story appears 
in their hand; and the silence of grief, at 
length, gives way to the phrensy of despair.— 
“ It is my son’s coat'—he exclaims—“ an evil 
“ beast hath devoured him ! Joseph is without 
“ doubt rent in pieces.—And he refused to be 
“ comforted, and said, I will go down into the 
“ grave to my son mourning !” 

In the mean time “ Joseph was brought 
u down to Egypt; and Potiphar, an officer of 
“ Pharaoh, captain of the guard, an Egyptian, 
“ bought him of the hands of the Ishmaelites.” 
Here the God of his father interfered, and was 
with the little Hebrew captive, and blessed bis 
master for his sake. So conspicuously was the 
hand of Heaven seen in his house, and in all the 
concerns which he committed to his servant, 
that this man, although a stranger to God, no¬ 
ticed it, and had gratitude enough to reward it; 
“ and he left all that he had in Joseph's hand; 
“ and he knew not aught he had, save the bread 
“ which he did eat/’ 

The hour of temptation is at hand. Prospe¬ 
rity is generally succeeded by trial. When thy 
day,-my young friend, is unusually serene, ex^ 


255 


pect a tempest to follow. I shall draw a veil 
over the scene of trial to which his purity was 
exposed : for it would ill become us to enforce 
even Joseph's piety, at the expense of a blush 
from the cheek of modesty. All circumstances 
considered, the temptation was violent; and 
such as none but those, who, like Joseph, have 
the fear of God before their eves, could have 

* Kt ' 

withstood. But his arguments were strong, and 
unanswerable : “ How can I do this Great wick- 
“ edness, and sin against Godr” This noble 
principle shall not go unrewarded. The right¬ 
eous demands of religion may for a season seem 
to expose us to danger: but the eye of God be¬ 
holds integrity in the heart that cleaves to him, 
and the hand of God will recompense it. 

By the tongue of falsehood, his master was 
prevailed upon to east this injured and virtuous 
youth into prison. We pause one moment to 
mark here the overruling hand of Heaven* 
.Death was the punishment inflicted upon 
those who were G'uiltv of the crime of which he 

O v 

was accused ; and here is the first interposition 
of God in reward of his innocence. \ et his 
lot was bitter; for he was immured in the 
king’s prison, and “ the iron entered into his 
“ soul.” 

Behold him reduced to the lowest ebb of for¬ 
tune—•“ a stranger in a strange land”—shut out 


from liberty—denied to breathe the pure air of 
heaven—lying under the imputation of a de¬ 
testable crime—and stripped of every thing, 
except that which the world’s wealth cannot 
purchase, the testimony of a good conscience, 
and the presence and Spirit of God. Yet the 
hand of Deity is secretly working for him, both 
within, and without, the place of his confine¬ 
ment. To lighten his bondage, he now finds 
that favour in the eyes of the keeper of the 
prison, which he formerly found with Potiphar; 
and by the wise decisions of Providence, two 
of the principal servants of Pharaoh are sent 
to the same “ house of bondage.” Long had 

o o 

they not been under the same roof with Joseph, 
before the visions of the Almighty visited them • 
and two dreams predicted the restoration of the 
one to favour, and the termination of the hopes 
and fears of the other in death. With affec¬ 
tionate sympathy, Joseph enquired why the 
cloud of grief sat heavy on their countenances; 
and, upon the relation of their dreams separate¬ 
ly, he gave to each, with fidelity, their inter¬ 
pretation. Upon the conviction that the chief 
butler was about to be restored to his office, he 
builds a hope that, through his instrumentality, 
he may once more be permitted to breathe the 
air, and see the light of heaven at large; and 
the sensibility with which he describes his 


257 

former situation, and his present circumstances, 
while he entreats his fellow-prisoner to remem¬ 
ber him, is so natural, and so pathetic, that 
none but an heart of stone can read his melan¬ 
choly tale without feeling. “ But think of me 
“ when it shall be well with thee, and shew 
“ kindness, I pray thee, unto me ; and make 
u mention of me unto Pharaoh; and bring me 
“ out of this house. For indeed I was stolen 
“ away out of the land of the Hebrews : and 
here also have I done nothing that they should 
put me into the dungeon !” 

Every thing took place precisely as he had 
predicted: “ Yet did not the chief butler re- 
“ member Joseph, but forgat him.” Such is 
the friendship of the world : it is founded in 
interest, and dissolved for convenience. It is 
all promise; and he who relies upon it, will sit 
down in the bitterness of disappointment to 
deplore his folly. In the hour of affliction, 
when this man was a fellow-prisoner with Jo¬ 
seph, and was comforted by him, a transient 
emotion of affection for his “ companion in 
tribulation” stirred in his bosom. Nature 
was not dead within him; and humanity plead¬ 
ed for one so young, so kind, and so injured, as 
Joseph. A string of tenderness was touched in 
his heart: but, alas, it’s vibrations ceased, and 
it relapsed into a state of rest, so soon as thjt 

% 


258 


hand which struck it was withdrawn. When 
he was exalted to power, and restored to pro¬ 
sperity, Joseph was left to pine amid all the 
horrgrs of solitary imprisonment, and to feel 
the pang inflicted by neglect. 

At length, when hope deferred made the 
heart sick, the mercy of God interposed ; and 
he, whose power is manifested to deliver in the 
moment of extremity, procured that enlarge¬ 
ment for Joseph, which he had entreated from 
the friendship of the chief butler in vain. Pha¬ 
raoh had two remarkable dreams, and was 
troubled : his own distress, on a similar occa¬ 
sion, rose before the eyes of the chief butler, 
and recalled Joseph with all his amiable quali¬ 
ties to his memory. “ Then spake the chief 
“ butler unto Pharaoh, saying, I do remember 
“ my faults this day. Pharaoh was wrath with 
“ his servants, and put me in ward in the cap- 
“ tain of the guard’s house, both me and the 
“ chief baker. And we dreamed a dream in 
“ one night, I and he: we dreamed each man 
“ according to the interpretation of his dream. 
“ And there was there with us a young man, 
“ an Hebrew, servant to the captain of the 
“ guard; and we told him, and he interpreted 
u to us our dreams : to each man according to 

o 

“ his dream he did interpret. And it came to 
r pass, as he interpreted to us, so it was: me 


259 

u lie restored unto mine office, and him he 
“ hanged.” 

Joseph was brought before Pharaoh, in con¬ 
sequence of this representation; and having 
heard the dreams which had agitated and per¬ 
plexed the king, he interpreted them as imply¬ 
ing seven years of plenty and seven years of 
famine. God had given to this young man a 
wisdom more precious than all the treasures of 
Egypt; and Pharaoh had himself enough to 
value and reward it, where he beheld it blended 
with integrity and worth. He stepped at once 
from a prison to a throne; and passed, from 
the menial office of servant to the captain of 
the guard, to the second chariot, and to the 
second office, in the kingdom. At thirty years 
of age. Pharaoh constituted him governor of 

O 7 O 

all Egypt. All elevations are dangerous: but 
those which are sudden, are of all others the 
most perilous. Joseph needed more grace, and 
more strength, to preserve him in his newly- 
acquired dignities and honours, than to support 
him in his afflictions and persecutions. Put he, 
whose hand conducted him to fame and to 
splendour, preserved his heart, that he was not 
ensnared by them. He, who made him pa¬ 
tient in tribulation, made him also faithful in 
prosperity. ^ 

Py the management of this extraordinary 


260 


young man during the years of plenty, enough 
was laid up in store to supply the whole king¬ 
dom, so long as the desolating scourge of fa¬ 
mine was shaken over Egypt, and the adjacent 
countries. The history of Joseph, and the cir¬ 
cumstances of this famine, are mentioned by 
Justin, in his abridgment of the history of Tro- 
gus Pompcius: in which, he has blended toge¬ 
ther, as is customary in traditions, that which 
is true, and that which is fabulous. He ascribes 
the knowledge of futurity which this favourite 
of Heaven possessed, to the exercise of magical 
arts-but you shall hear him speak for him¬ 

self. The following: is his lamniag-e ; “ Among; 
“ his brethren, Joseph, in point of age, was the 
“ youngest; and fearing the superiority of his 
“ genius, they surprised, and secretly sold him 
“ to foreign merchants, by whom he was car- 
“ ried into Egypt; where he exercised niagi- 
a cal arts with singular ability, which rendered 
“ him much beloved by the king. For he was 
“ most sagacious in the solution of prodigies; 
“ and first found out the explanation of dreams; 
u and nothing of divine, or of human wisdom, 
“ seemed to be concealed from him! So that 
“ he foresaw the sterility of the lands, many 
“ years before it took place; and all Egypt had 
“ perished by famine, had not the king, by his 
“ admonition, in a decree, commanded the 



261 

“ fruits to be preserved many years. And such 
was his experience, that Ills answers seemed 
<£ to be given by a God, rather than by a man*/ 5 
—Such is the testimony of this writer. 

I he famine extending to the land of Canaan, 
the family of Jacob began to be in want. Poor 
old man! his sorrows thickened upon his head, 
at a time of life when nature demanded repose. 
Usually, after a stormy and rough day, in even¬ 
tide there is light; but the lower his sun de¬ 
scended, the darker was the cloud which ga¬ 
thered upon it. A numerous family—age—in¬ 
firmity—want—these are sad companions! What 
is to be done? Tidings have reached him, that 
there is corn in Egypt, and his sons are sent 
thither: but mindful of his loss, the patriarch 
retains Benjamin, the only pledge that remained 
to him of Rachels affection. And now is the 
divine prescience made manifest! This knot of 
ruffians, whose eye had no pity, are to feel in 
their turn the roughness of unkindness; and 
they who sported with a brother’s tears, shall 
see “ what will become of his dreams!” I am 
• delighted to observe their embarrassment, and 
their fears, while they are treated as spies—and 

* Justin, lib, xxxvi. cap. 2. See note 1, at the end of this Lec- 
4*1 re. 


5 3 






262 


Benjamin is required—and Simeon is bound be¬ 
fore their faces as a pledge of their return with 
their younger brother: and I love to listen to 
the language of their guilty, awakened con¬ 
sciences. They had slept for twenty years, and 
it is time they should be roused from their slum¬ 
bers. “ And they said one to another, We are 
“ verily guilty concerning our brother, in that 
“ we saw the anguish of his soul, when he be- 
“ sought us; and we would not hear: there- 
“ fore is this distress come upon us f 

They left Egypt for their fathers tent with 
heavy hearts, although they were supplied with 
corn for their immediate necessities; and their 
anxieties were not a little increased, when they 
found that their money was restored. But while 
I enjoy their punishment, I grieve to think how 
heavy all this will fall upon the head of Jacob! 
—As they told their tale, ail the sorrows of his 
heart were opened anew : but when they came 
to require Benjamin, he could restrain his emo¬ 
tions no longer; and he said—“ Me have ye be- 
“ reaved of my children: Joseph is not, and 
“ Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin 
“ away: All these things are against meT 
“ My son shall not go down with you : for his 
“ brother is dead, and he is left alone; if mis- 
“ chief befall him by the way in the which ye 


263 

“ go, then shall ye bring down my grey hairs 
“ with sorrow to the grave P 

But the hand of God is heavy still on the 
land, and the pressure of famine reduces them 
to the necessity of again visiting Egypt. With 
reluctance Israel parted with his youngest son, 
and Judah laid himself under the most solemn 
engagement to restore him to the arms of his 
father.—This engagement was put to a severe 
trial! They were received more kindly than at 
first; and Benjamin was distinguished by the 
peculiar favour of the ruler of Egypt. The 
time of their departure came—and they com¬ 
menced their journey in peace—with their num¬ 
ber complete—and with the fairest hope to 
reach their home without evil, and to gladden 
the eyes of their father with the sight of Simeon, 
whom they had left bound, and of Benjamin 
with whom he had so reluctantly parted. 

Now in order to detain them, Joseph had 
commanded his steward secretly to convey his 
cup into the sack of the youngest; and when 
they had left the city, he issued orders that 
they should be pursued, charged with the theft, 
and brought back to his presence. They were 
overtaken; and the charge was preferred against 
them. Secure in their innocence, they said, 
“ Wherefore saith my lord these words ? God 
“ forbid that thy servants should do according 

s 4 


204 

to this thing! Behold, the money which Wd- 
<( found in our sacks’ mouths, we brought again 
u unto thee out of the land of Canaan: how 
u then should we steal out of thy lord's house. 
u silver or gold? With whomsoever of thy ser 
vants it be found, both let him die, and we 
<l also will be my lord's bondmen." After this* 
declaration, what was their horror and distrac¬ 
tion when “ the cup was found in Benjamin’s 
“ sack P 

In unutterable agony they are brought back 
Into the presence of Joseph—and offer to be¬ 
come his servants ! This offer is rejected, on 
principles of justice, and he only is required, 
in whose sack’the cup was found. But this was 
.all that they dreaded—and to return without 
him was worse than death! It was then that the 
engagement of Judah presented itself to him in 
gll it's force; and he pleaded for his brother 
with all the eloquence of distress, and in a lan¬ 
guage which it would be injury to imitate. 
“ Then Judah came near unto him, and said. 
Oh my lord, let thy servant, I pray thee, 

* speak a word in my lord’s ears, and let not 
** thine anger burn against thy servant: for 
u thou art even as Pharaoh. My lord asked 
“ his servants, saying, Have ye a father, or a 

* brother? And we said unto my lord, We have 
T a father, an, old. man,, and a child of his old 


2C3 


** age, a little one: and bis brother is dead, and 
“ be alone is left of bis mother, and bis father 
“ loveth him. And thou saidst unto thy ser- 
u vants, Bring him down unto me, that I may 
“ set mine eyes upon him. And we said unto 
H my lord, The lad cannot leave bis father, for 
“ if be should leave bis father, bis father would 
“ die! And thou saidst unto thy servants, Ex- 
“ cept your youngest brother come down with 
“ you, ye shall see my face no more. And it 
“ came to pass, when we came up unto thy ser- 
u vant my father, we told him the words of my 
lord. And our father said, Go again, and. 
“ buy us a little food. And we said, We can- 
*•' not go down: if our youngest brother be 
li with us, then will we go down; for we may 
u not see the man’s face, except our youngest 
“ brother be with us. And thy r servant my fa- 
“ ther said unto us, Ye know that my wife* 
“ bare me two sons. And the one went out 
f( from me, and I said, surely he is torn in 
pieces ; and I saw him not since. And if ye 
4i take this also from me, and mischief befall. 

him , ye shall bring down my grey hairs with 
u sorrow to the grave! Now therefore when I 
u come to thy servant my father, and the lad 
(( be not with us: seeing that his life is bound 
up in the lad’s life; it shall come to pass, 
when he seeth that the lad is not with us, 


£66 


“ that he will die! and thy servants shall bring 
“ down the grey hairs of thy servant our father 
“ with sorrow to the grave! For thy servant 
“ became surety for the lad unto my father, 
“ saying, If I bring him not unto thee, then I 
“ shall bear the blame to my father for ever! 
“ Now therefore, I pray thee, let thy servant 
“ abide instead of the lad, a bondman to my 
“ lord; and let the lad go up with his brethren. 
“ For how shall I go up to my father, and the 
“ lad be not with me? lest peradventure I see 
u the evil that shall come on my father P 

O powerful nature ! how irresistible is thy 
language ! No rules of composition could pro¬ 
duce an effect equal to this pathetic appeal to 
the heart! Eloquence flows along in a soft, un¬ 
ruffled stream, which leaves no trace on the 
memory over which it has passed: it charms 
the ear with it’s selection of language, but dies 
away with the vibrations which the tongue of 
the orator excites in the air: but the voice of 
nature leads the bosom captive ; and the heart 
of Joseph must have been adamant had be not 
felt it! But he did feel it—and unable any longer 
to “ refrain himself/' he ordered all his servants 
to leave him, while he made himself known to 
his brethren, and wept aloud! The scene which 
follows is too affecting to delineate! Language 
cannot describe it! The enquiries after his fa- 


267 

ther, the gentle forgiveness tendered to his bre* 
thren, and his commission to Jacob—all—all, 
transcend human power to paint; it was the 
inspired penman alone who could portray them! 
Here, then, we shall follow the modest example 
of a celebrated painter, who unable to delineate 
the agony of a father hanging over the corpse 
of an only child, hid his face in the robes which 
veiled her lifeless remains. 

Here we might pause, for a few moments, to 
Feflect upon the wonders of Providence! Every 
thing predicted in the dreams of Joseph was 
fulfilled, and the very steps which his brethren 
took to prevent it, accomplished the whole.— 
But we must bring you to the close of this his- 
torv, and we could make no remarks, which are 
not already comprised in one text of scripture: 
“ Many are the devises of a man’s heart; never- 
“ theless, the counsel of the Lord, that shall 
“ stand P 

Behold them once again upon their journey: 
but with what different feelings to the day when 
they left Simeon bound behind them, and were 
required to bring Benjamin? Now the way 
seems annihilated, so swiftly do they pass, and 
so speedily do they reach the tent of their fa¬ 
ther. With the abruptness of joy, they tell a 
tale, which ought to have been delivered with 
caution, and by degrees:—“ Joseph is yet alive! 


268 


u and he Is governor over all the land of 
“ Egypt!"—and it is almost too much for that 
shattered frame—“ And Jacob’s heart fainted, 
“ for he believed them not!" But “ when he 
“ saw the waggons which Joseph had sent to 
“ carry him—his spirit revived : And Israel 
“ said, It is enough! Joseph my son is yet 

alive: I will go and see him before I die !" 

We will not accompany him along a journey, 
the fatigues of which are lightened, by the an¬ 
ticipated pleasure of feasting his eyes once 
jnore on the countenance of his beloved child : 
but we cannot refrain from gratifying you, b y 
permitting you to witness the meeting of such 
a father, and of such a son, after an absence of 
more than twenty years.—“ And Joseph made 
“ ready his chariot, and went up to meet Israel 
“ his father to Goshen; and presented himself 
* e unto him: and he fell on his neck, and wept 
“ on his neck a good while. And Israel said 
“ unto Joseph, Now let me die, since I have 
“ seen thy face, that thou art yet alive*!" 

When the first emotions of this meeting were 
over, and they had separately time to collect 
their thoughts, and to talk calmly, how much 
each of them would have to relate! Joseph 

v„ ...---.....-_ '.uju . ...«-• 


* See note 2, at tlie end of this Lecture* 




269 

would mark with pain, the ravages which sor¬ 
row and time had made on his father’s person, 
and the wrinkles which they had planted in his 
face! Jacob would delight in retracing the re- 
semblance of the features of a man of forty, to 
those of a lad of seventeen, which was the age 
of Joseph when lie was snatched from him! 
And with what mutual interest, would they 
listen to the alternate recital of their mutual 
sufferings! 

But it was necessary that Jacob should be in^ 
troduced to Pharaoh, whose curiosity was pro¬ 
bably greatly excited to see the father of Jo¬ 
seph; and who must have been much struck 
with the appearance of the venerable patriarch. 
“ And Pharaoh said unto Jacob, Ilow old art 
“ thou? And Jacob said unto Pharaoh, The 

days of the years of my pilgrimage are an 
“ hundred and thirty years: few and evil have 
“ the days of the years of my life been, and 
“ have not attained unto the days of the years 
fi of the life of my fathers in the days of their 
“ pilgrimage!”—This was not only an answer 
to the king’s question, but an epitome of his 
own life! 

About seventeen years of tranquillity suc¬ 
ceeded the storms, and rendered serene the 
evening, of the patriarch's life ; and “ the time 
^ drew near that Israel must die !”—Ilis family 


270 

were convened around him—and his blessings 
poured upon the head of Joseph—and of the 
sons of Joseph—and of the brethren of Joseph 
—with parental tenderness, and with prophetic 
fidelity. “ And when Jacob had made an end 
“ of commanding his sons, he gathered up his 
te feet into the bed, and yielded up the ghost, 
“ and was gathered to his people.' 1 

This was a separation more awful and affect¬ 
ing than any which had yet taken place ; and 
who does not sympathize with the pious and 
affectionate son, as he 46 mourned with a great 
“ and very sore lamentation,” and as he con¬ 
signed the remains of his father to repose by 
the dust of his family? “ There they buried 
“ Abraham and Sarah his wife, there they 
tc buried Isaac and Rebekah his wife, there he 
“ buried Leah,” and in the same grave his be¬ 
loved son deposited his body! 

But to human grief there must be bounda¬ 
ries. The imperious claims of public, of do¬ 
mestic, and of private duty, called upon him 
to dry his tears—and he obeyed them. lie con¬ 
tinued to serve Pharaoh with fidelity—to lead 
up his family in the fear of God—to speak 
kindly to his brethren—and to nourish their 
little ones. And this appears to have been his 
unremitting employment, through the space of 
fifty-four years: at the close of which time, 


27 i 

and at the age of an hundred and ten, he fol¬ 
lowed his father down into the grave; and left 
his bones to the charge of his brethren, to be 
deposited, when the providence of God should 
see fit, by those of his deceased family. 

In concluding this interesting and pathetic 
history, we arrive at the close of the book of 
Genesis; the following remarks may not be 
deemed unnecessary, before this portion of the 
sacred writings is entirely dismissed. 

1. The facts which it relates, are such as it 
concerns us to know, and such as an inspired 
communication must necessarily contain; for 
they are such, for the most part, as could be 
obtained through no other channel than reve¬ 
lation. Who, for instance, but a man divinely 
instructed, could give us an account of the 
creation of all things, and of the destination of 
man? And yet these are the first subjects after 
which we naturally enquire; and we expect sa¬ 
tisfaction from a volume professedly inspired. 

2. It appears that Moses is the true and sole 
author of this book—and for these several rea¬ 
sons :—He is allowed to be, on the testimony of 
the heathens, the most ancient law giver : the 
Jews, who are governed by these laws, acknow¬ 
ledge no other legislator; and when we are in¬ 
formed that Solon gave laws to Athens, and 
Lycurgus to Lacedaemon, we credit the asser- 


272 

'tion, because it is made by the nations them¬ 
selves, through the medium of their historians, 
and all generations have, in succession, admit¬ 
ted their testimony; and we have the same evi¬ 
dence in favour of Moses. Neither, even ad¬ 
mitting a book of this description could be 
forged, could it be imposed upon a whole peo* 
pie, without detection, by any impostor of later 
date than Moses himself. 

3. The connection between Genesis, and the 
succeeding books, is such, that if this be re¬ 
moved, those which remain are unintelligible; 
and preserving it, every thing is connected and 
luminous: so that the book which we have just 
finished, must be admitted into the canon of 
scripture, and among the writings of Moses, or 
the whole of the five books expunged; and 
then have you wiped out the first record which 
Reason expects of Revelation—an account of 
things which necessarily extend beyond her own 
province, and as necessarily fall within that of 
Revelation. Besides which, the harmony of 
the whole volume is broken : for it proceeds 
throughout upon principles contained in this 
first book; and the authority of the scriptures, 
from first to last, is destroyed: for an appeal is 
made in every successive part of the Bible, to 
events which are recorded, and to facts which 
are stated, in Genesis, 


V 


273 

4. The historian writes like a man convinced 
of the truth of that which he advances. lie 
appeals to things, at that time well known, 
which are now lost; and it is easy to conceive 
how the several facts which he relates were 
transmitted to him. Admitting that he could 
impose upon us, and upon succeeding genera¬ 
tions, who will be still more removed from the era 
of his facts, and the scene of transactions which 
he has stated, he could not have imposed upon 
those with whom he lived, and who were them¬ 
selves, by tradition, well acquainted with the 
facts which he relates. Should any man be 
disposed, after all that has been said, to deter¬ 
mine that the whole is a fable, before he finally 
draws his conclusions, we entreat him once 
more to read over the history of Joseph, in all 
it’s native simplicity, as recorded in the Bible ; 
and we would be satisfied to rest our argument 
upon this alone : we think that no one could 
for a moment imagine that it is a fiction: we 
would even venture to appeal to scepticism 
itself to determine, whether any thing could 
so affect the heart, short of truth and nature. 

5. The difference of style between the book 
of Genesis, and those which succeed, which 
some have alledged as an evidence that they 
had not the same author, may be accounted for 
on this principle: that in this he records things 

T 


274 

which took place before he was born ; in those , 
he relates the transactions of his own day, to 
which he was an eye-witness. Those who have 
supposed, that if Moses had been the author of 
tins part of the Bible, he would not have spoken 
of himself in the third person, appear to us to 
have pointed out one of his principal beauties, 
and to have confirmed his general character: 
for egotism would have ill become “the meekest 
“ of men”- 

—But it is time that we retire to our respec¬ 
tive habitations, for meditation and prayer. 



NOTES. 


Note 1. u Minimus oetate inter fratres Joseph fuit: cujus excellens 
“ ingenium veriti fratres, clam interceptum peregrinis mercatoribus 
il vendiderunt. A quibus deportatus in iEgyptum, cilm magicas ibi 
t( artes solerti ingenio percepisset, brevi ipsi regi percarus fuit. Nam 
<( et prodigiorum sagacissimus erat, et somniorum primus intelligen- 
“ tiam condidit; nihil que divini juris humanique ei incognitum vide- 
i( batur: adeo, ut etiam sterilitatem agrorum ante multos annos pro- 
u viderit: perissetque omnis TEgyptus fame, nisi monitu ejus rex 
u edicto scrvari per multos annos fruges jussisset; tantaque experi- 
“ menta ejus fuerunt, ut non ab homine, sed ii Deo responsa dari 
u viderentur,” Just. lib. xxxvi. cap. 2. 

This passage from Justin is translated in page 261, of the preceding 
Lecture. 

Note 2. It is impossible to read the account given by Moses of 
the meeting of Jacob and Joseph, without calling to mind the mas¬ 
terly description furnished by Homer, in his Odyssey, of the disco¬ 
very of Ulysses to Telemachus ; and a very slight parallel will shew 
the superiority of the sacred historian over the genius of even Ho¬ 
mer. 

AaA« 7r<XTl?£ T£05 tipi, Ttf tlVtKX VV TtVX^iCpJV 
“ II xcr^tit; xKyix ffoMa, vTro^typtvoq avtyujv.” 


“ "SJq ugx (puvyirx* *;, y.xr ag t^ero* Tri\ipxx ) o$ 
u *A/*<P‘%v 6 e»s 'irxxi^ lafabv o^vgero, bxygvx TuiCwr. 

* AptyoTtgoio-i « £ roiaiv ip.egos wgro yooto ■ 

Odi/ss. lib. xvi, l, 188, 189: 213, 214, 21& 

“ I am thy father. O my son ! my son! 
r< That father, for whose sake thy days have run 

T £ 





QJ6 


NOTES. 


“ One scene of woe; to endless cares consign'd, 
“ And outrag'd by the wrongs of base mankind." 


“ He spoke and sat. The prince with transport flew, 

“ Hung round his neck, while tears his cheek bedew; 

“ Nor less the father pour’d a social flood ! 

“ They wept abundant, and they w r ept aloud. 

Pope'js Homer’s Odyss. b. xvi. 1. 206 - 209 : 234 - 237 . 

ct And he wept aloud—And Joseph said unto his brethren, I am 
fi Joseph. Doth my father yet live ? And his brethren could not 
il answer him; for they were troubled at his presence. And Joseph 
u said unto his brethren, Come near to me, I pray you; and they 
ts came near: and he said, I am Joseph, your brother, whom ye sold 

“ into Egypt."-“ And he fell upon his brother Benjamin's neck 

il and wept; and Benjamin wept upon his neck." 

-“ And Joseph made ready his chariot, and went up to meet 

u Israel his father to Goshen ; and presented himself unto him: and 
\ u he fell on his neck, and wept on his neck a good while. And Israel 
u said unto Joseph, Now let me die, since I have seen thy face, be- 
“ cause thou art yet alive." See page 268 , of the preceding Lec¬ 
ture. 

Mr. Pope, in his notes on this beautiful passage in Homer, says— 
“ This book (i. e. xvi) in general is very beautiful in the original; the 
“ discovery of Ulysses to Telemachus is particularly tender and 
* 1 afiecting. It has some resemblance with that of Joseph's disco- 
u very of himself to his brethren, and it may not perhaps be dis- 
“ agreeable to see how two such authors describe the same passion." 


Moses. 


IIomer. 


il I am Joseph— 

“ I am your brother Joseph— 
u And he wept aloud— 


li I am Ulysses— 

“ I, my son, am he— 
tl He wept abundant— 


u And he fell on his brother's “ And he wept aloud!" 
u neck, and wept- 

“ But it must be owned that Homer falls infinitely short of Moses: 
il the history of Joseph cannot be read without the utmost touches 
“ of compassion and transport. There is a majestic simplicity in the 






NOTES. 


277 


K< whole relation, and such an affecting portrait of human nature, 
u that it overwhelms us with vicissitudes of joy and sorrow. This is 
“ a pregnant instance how much the best of heathen writers is infe- 
tc rior to the divine historian upon a parallel subject." 

In these just sentiments I most heartily concur. And it would 
most amply repay any reader capable of understanding the original, 
to compare the whole of Homer’s narration in Odyss. lib. xvi. from 
line 172 to line 232, with that of Moses in Gen. xlv. throughout, and 
xlvi. 28-30. It will be soon seen to whom we must yield the palm of 
excellence. 


278 


LECTURE VII. 

. * • 

INTERMEDIATE LECTURE . 

A SCRIPTURAL REPRESENTATION OF THE 

NATURE AND DESTINATION OF MAN. 

•¥ 


GEN. II. 7- 

And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the 
ground , and breathed into his 7iostrils the breath 
of life; and man became a living souL 

* 

JOB XXXII. 8. 


There is a spirit in man; and the inspiration of 
the Almighty giveth them understanding . 

Why does my heart beat with pulsations of 
rapture, when my eye measures yonder heavens, 
or glides over hills and vallies along the surface 
of this beautiful world ? When the dew sparkles 




279 

upon the ground, a kindred tear glitters upon 
my countenance: but it is not the tear of sor¬ 
row; it springs from a well of unspeakable 
pleasure which I feel flowing within my 
bosom ! Is it merely the softness, or the gran¬ 
deur, of the scenery by which I am surrounded, 
that affects me? No! but my spirit meets a 
Parent walking invisibly on the globe that he 
formed, and working manifestly on my right 
hand and on my left. All these lovely objects 
are the productions of his skill, the result of his 
wisdom, the tokens of his benevolence, the im¬ 
perfect images of his greatness. Every thing 
demonstrates the being and perfections of 
Deity. I see him empurpling the east before 
the sun in the morning, and wheeling the orb 
on which I live round upon its axis. I behold 
him throwing the mantle of darkness over me 
in the evening, and kindling the skies into ra¬ 
diance by unveiling suns and worlds without 
number and without end. I gather a flower, 
and am revived by it’s fragrance; I see shade 
melting into shade infinitely above any combi¬ 
nation of colours, which art can produce. To 
aid the organ of vision, I inspect, through the 
microscope, an insect: I see it painted into a 
thousand brilliances, and displaying a thousand 
beauties, imperceptible to the naked eye. I 
stand convinced that no mortal pencil could 

T 4 


280 


delineate the loveliness of it’s form. I perceive 
a grain of corn peeping above the earth. It 
scarcely rears it’s light green head over the 
ground. I visit it day after day, and month 
after month. It gradually increases. It is an 
inch—it is a foot in height. Now it assumes a 
new shape. It vegetates afresh. The ear be¬ 
gins to form—to expand—to fill. Now it has 
attained its growth—it ripens—it is matured. 
I have narrowly watched the progress of vege¬ 
tation ; and have seen it’s advancement. I be¬ 
held every day adding something to it’s height, 
and to it’s perfection: but the hand which 
raised it from “ the blade to the ear, and to the 
“ full corn in the ear,” escaped my researches. 
I find a crysalis, and watch the secret move¬ 
ments of nature. The insect is shrouded in a 
living tomb. It begins to stir—it increases in 
strength—and the butterfly breaks from it’s 
confinement. Meeting with ten thousand such 
wonderful productions every day—I recognise 
in them the great Spirit that animates all created 
nature, and I am compelled to acknowledge, 
“ O Lord our Governor 1 how excellent is thy 
“ name in all the earth; and thou hast set thy 
“ glory above the heavens.” 

I pass on to the animal creation. There I 
perceive other operations, and am overwhelmed 
with new wonders. The principle on which 


281 


they act, and which is termed instinct, is the 
gift of God; and it appears to differ from the 
immortal principle in man, in it’s confinement 
to a certain inferior standard, and in it’s direc¬ 
tion to one particular pursuit, adapted to the 
peculiar nature and exigencies of it’s possessor. 

I see the timid acquiring courage while they 
have a maternal part to perform ; and, forget¬ 
ting to measure the disproportion between their 
own strength and that of their antagonist, bold¬ 
ly assaulting those superior animals, which, de¬ 
signedly or unintentionally, disturb the repose 
of their vouno\ Their instinct enables them to 

J O 

perform those things to which it is particularly 
adapted, with more order and facility than man, 
with his superior understanding, can accom¬ 
plish ; and, with the simple tools of nature, they 
effect that which the complex machinery of art 
cannot produce. All the animate creation, 
from the elephant, and “ that great leviathan,” 
among animals, to the bee, and the ant, among 
insects, still conduct us to the invisible God; 
and we say, “ The earth is full of thy riches; 
“ so is this great and wide sea, wherein are 
“ things creeping innumerable, both small and 
“ great beasts. O Lord, how manifold are 
“ thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them 
“ all.” 

But all these are far inferior to man. He 


282 


blends in his own person, the nature and pro¬ 
perties of all. He has the vegetation of the 
plant—for his limbs expand and grow; and he 
combines with it the properties of the animal— 
for he lives and moves : he possesses also their 
distinguishing principle of action, instinct-- 
for his eye closes self-instructed against the fly 
which blindly rushes upon it, on a summer’s 
evening. But he has a superior principle ; and 
here is he in truth the Lord of Creation. “ There 
“ is a spirit ill man; and the inspiration of the 
t( Almighty giveth him understanding.” These 
words well express the substance of the Lec¬ 
ture proposed for this evening: the subject of 
which is 


A SCRIPTURAL REPRESENTATION OF THE NA¬ 
TURE AND DESTINATION OF MAN. 

While Elihu declares what man is, Moses leads 
us back to the contemplation of what he was; 
and both develope how he came to be what he 
is. “ And the Lord God formed man of the 
“ dust of the ground, and breathed into his 
“ nostrils the breath of life ; and man became 
“ a living soul.” The combined testimonies of 
these scriptures require us to declare the natu¬ 
ral dignity of man, and to unveil the source 


283 


of his greatness; and from each of these con¬ 
siderations some reflections will arise, import¬ 
ant to us, as intelligent, responsible beings. 

The passages we have selected convey a forci¬ 
ble description of 


I. TIIE NATURAL DIGNITY OF MAN. 

“ There is a spirit in man”—“ Man became 
a living soul.” And 

1. What is spirit? Every enquiry into 
the nature, power, and phenomena of mind— 
every search into it’s union to matter, it’s mode 
of operation, it’s dependance, or the contrary, 
upon this exterior vehicle and instrument of itV 
volitions—every question agitated respecting 
it's modes of existence, and their several rela¬ 
tions—is interesting and important. But these 
enquiries should be made with humility, these 
researches pursued with caution, these questions 
agitated with diffidence, and the several con¬ 
clusions which we deduce in support of any 
favourite hypothesis, should be inferred and 
maintained in a spirit totally opposite to dog-> 
matism: since, such is our uncertainty after 
the most laborious investigations, and our dark¬ 
ness in defiance of the lights which Revelation 
and philosophy have respectively furnished, that 
little more than conjecture can be obtained 


284 


after all ; and while the pride of man, on the 
wing for information, aspires to nothing less 
than demonstration , his reason, fatigued with 
her daring flight into regions so unexplored, is 
compelled, for the most part, to sit down at 
the lowest stage of evidence— probability. 

Our object is not to render this Lecture a 
mere philosophical essay, but simply and se¬ 
riously to enquire, what we are, and to what 
we are destined. We shall not attempt to enter 
far into that, which has been the mystery of 
every age: but shall be satisfied with proving 
the position laid down, that “ there is a spirit 
“ in man.”—'We shall describe some of the more 
obvious properties of mind, in answering the 
enquiry, “ what is spirit?” without labouring 
to “ darken counsel by words without know- 
“ ledge,” in attempting a solution of that, 
which in this world can never satisfactorily be 

4 / 

solved. 

I feel within me a principle superior to the 
tabernacle which it inhabits. I mark a similar 
principle in my brethren of mankind : at least 
1 see them affected in the same way, and I con- 
elude that they are agitated from the same 
causes. I discern these impressions in a child 
but faintly: they wax stronger and stronger; 
they grow with his growth, strengthen with 
his vi gour, and increase with his age. I dis- 


285 


cover impressions on the animal creation re¬ 
sembling these: but they are limited; they act 
always in the same way; in me, they are illimit¬ 
able ; they assume a thousand different shapes; 
and they are confined to no certain standard. 
I conclude that “ there is a spirit in man.” 
But this spirit is not to be defined ; and is best 
understood by the effects that it produces.— 
Let us therefore enquire, 

2. What are it's operations? On all 
occasions it compares, it combines, it reasons, 
it judges. Whenever a subject is presented, it 
considers it's parts, compares it’s probabilities 
and the contrary, and forms it’s decisions upon 
the preponderance of the one or the other.— 
I see my friend; and the sound of his voice 
communicates joy to my bosom; its tones vi¬ 
brate upon my heart, as well as upon my ear. 
The blood circulates along my veins with greater 
rapidity. Pleasure dilates all my powers, and 
the feelings of my heart rush to my eyes. I 
read the same emotions in his countenance. I 
see the same rapture thrilling through his frame. 
It is the mingling of kindred spirits. Some¬ 
times the communication is made through the 
medium of the eye, and his hand-writing im¬ 
parts the same pleasurable sensations as the 
tones of his voice : but it is still the spirit that 
speaks within me. Pie dies—and all is changed! 


28 6 


The face of nature seems no more lovely. The 
vicissitudes of seasons charm me no longer. 
My bosom is oppressed; and as I stand over the 
grave of my departed comforts, my sorrows 
force their way to my eyes, and my tears fall 
upon the unconscious dust. I wander, in an 
agony of grief, over his deserted habitation. 
Time, which mellows my affliction, is unable 
to remove it altogether, and it melts only into 
the softer shade of melancholy. The sun shines, 
and the seasons return, since his departure as 
before: but they are not the same to me! 
Whence is this change ? or why these emotions 
and passions at all ? — “ There is a spirit in 
“ man 1” 

When I raise my hand, it is in consequence 
of an impulse of my mind; and when I walk 
out, my will determines the road which I shall 
take: but if there were no “ spirit in man,” 
there could be no will to determine, and when 
that spirit is removed, the body sinks into a 
state of rest. Year after year, I lose my con¬ 
nections : but the bond of our union is indisso¬ 
luble, even by death. Memory uncovers the 
grave, and the form of those whom I loved, 
rises perfect before me. I meet them in the 
room which they occupied; and the ground on 
which they trod becomes holy. As the man 
sinks into the vale of years, the scenes of hia 


287 

former clays recur, in all the vivid colours in 
which they were presented to him in the days 
of his youth. He well recollects the house in 
which his childhood was passed; and the field 
over which he strolled in cpiest of the wild- 
flower, or in pursuit of the insect; and as he 
reviews these early enjoyments, he seems to 
live them over again. This is another of the 
operations of the mind ; and it furnishes another 
evidence that “ there is a spirit in man.” 

The radiance of yonder orb scarcely reaches 
the man. Science discovers that it is a sun, or 
a planet; and imagination pursues the thought. 
He roves through the fields of infinite space, 
and without quitting the globe which he in¬ 
habits, strays beyond the vast confines of the 
creation, presses into the invisible worlds, en¬ 
ters the “ heavens of heavens,” and loses him¬ 
self before the throne of God. 

He sleeps—“ but his heart waketh.” The 
body requires repose ; but the mind, ever active 
and awake, wanders unfettered through all the 
labyrinths of fancy. It converses with de* 
parted spirits: it is recalled only by the light 
of the morning chasing it’s visions. Whence is 
all this ? These operations, from what source 
do they flow ? This understanding—these pas¬ 
sions — this memory—this imagination — these 


288 

dreams—what is the spring of them all ? “ There 

I 

“ is a spirit in man!” 

But when the body grows cold—and it’s mem¬ 
bers are stiff and motionless—the spirit is with¬ 
drawn. The clay tabernacle is reduced to it’s 
original dust; but respecting the mind a new 
question suggests itself 

3. What is it’s separate state? While 
our dearest friends are dying around us, and we 
ourselves shiver on the brink of eternity, this 
is no unimportant enquiry. We understand, 
however, so little of spirit in it’s union with 
matter, that our researches into it’s state of 
separation must be very confined; and we are 
acquainted in so small a measure with its modes 
of existence in this world, that we are not to 
expect very extensive information of those in 
which it shall exist in futurity. We cannot 
doubt the fact that it can exist separate from 
the body, when we consider some phenomena 
in it’s present state.' When the powers of the 
body are suspended in sleep, those of the mind 
are in action; and when the eye is closed, the 
spirit, in dreams, sees without the aid of that 
organ. A separate state of existence for the 
spirit, when it has left the body, is not impossi¬ 
ble ; and it appears to us that the tenour of the 
scriptures is against the soul-sleeping scheme. 
In vain did Paul wish “ to depart,” in order to 


289 

<c be with Christ,” if the soul sleep with the 
body till the resurrection of the dead; since he 
would not be nearer the accomplishment of his 
wish in dying, than he was while he yet lived: 
nor, if this hypothesis be true, is he nearer to 
it now, than he would have been, had he lived 
to the present hour. Neither indeed is he so 
near the attainment of his desire now, as he was 
during his life: for while he lived he enjoyed 
divine communications; but being dead, if the 
spirit sleep with the body, even those commu- 
munications which he did enjoy are cut off— 
and all intercourse with the Deity is suspended 
in long oblivion till the morning of the resur¬ 
rection. For Jesus says, “ God is not the God 
“ of the dead, but of the living:” Yet said he 
to Moses—“ I am the God of Abraham, and 
“ the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob/' 
—three hundred years after their dust had been 
consigned to the cave of the field of Machpelah. 
The inference we deduce is, that their spirits 
exist in a separate state, while their bodies sleep 
in the grave. 

This state is revealed in the scriptures as a 
state of happiness or misery; and it is not im¬ 
possible for the spirit to suffer and enjoy in¬ 
dependently of the body; and by consequence 
in a state separate from it. Observe yonder 
man suffering even to agony. What horror is 

u 


i 


290 

painted on his countenance! What distraction 
looks through his eye ! What groans burst from 
his bosom ! From what does his anguish arise ? 
His body is in health: no disease wastes him ; 
no illness shatters his frame. Ah! it is an in¬ 
ward sorrow that devours him—an inward sick¬ 
ness that consumes him ! “ The arrows of the 

“ Almighty are within him, the poison whereof 
“ drinketh up his spirit.” It is conscience that 
suffers: it is the spirit that is sick!—And oh, 
how sharper than all external calamity is this 
disease of the mind! “ The spirit of a man will 
“ sustain his infirmity: but a wounded spirit— 
“ who can bear?''—He, who can thus afflict the 
spirit when the body is in health, and cause it 
to suffer independently of the body—can fill it 
with unspeakable anguish in a state of separa¬ 
tion from the body, and, by a parity of reason¬ 
ing, cause it to enjoy the most exquisite hap¬ 
piness. The assertion of the text appears now 
to be established—“ there is a spirit in man.” 
A spirit, such as we have described, must in the 
nature of things be immortal. And the happi¬ 
ness or misery of this spirit in a future state, 
one might rationally conclude, even did not the 
scriptures positively affirm it, must be commen¬ 
surate with it’s existence. But what shall be the 
modes of it’s being in a separate and eternal state, 
as we are so partially acquainted with them in 
it’s present union with the body, we must die to 


291 

learn. One thing is clear—man is “ a living 

“ souland the Bible furnishes us with the most 

* * ?.->.>*»/»■« 

rational and valuable account of his natural dig¬ 
nity—and of his future destination. By this 
Revelation we are made acquainted with 


II. THE SOURCE OF HIS GREATNESS. 

“ The Lord God—breathed into his nostrils 
“ the breath of life:” “the inspiration of the 
“ Almighty—giveth him understanding.” The 
amount of these declarations, and of the com¬ 
bined testimony of the scriptures, seems to be 
comprised in the following arrangement. 

1. “ In him we live, and move, and have 
“ our being.” —This is the leading sentiment 
of the Bible, and it is strictly reasonable. It 
was not more immediately the work of God to 
create the man at the first, than it is to give 
life to every individual that is bom into the 
world. He organizes the human frame; and 
bestows the adaption of it’s several parts to the 
purposes for which they were designed. A won- 
derous piece of machinery, secret in it’s most 
important operations, and unsearchable in the 
finer parts of it’s construction! Internally, how 
complicated! how harmonious! A thousand 
springs act upon each other—a thousand fibres 

u & 


292 

arc necessary to life, which escape the eye 
scrutiny. To guard these, what care, what 
wisdom, are displayed! In the whole machine; 
what compactness ! what strength! Externally, 
what.uniformity! and yet what variety! What 
grace, what beauty, what perfection! The 
spring of all this is life! The several parts of 
the machine we are able to take in pieces, and 
to comprehend their operations: but this secret 
spring—life—altogether escapes us. W T e see 
not the hand that takes it away ; we know not 
the moment when it was first <nven. Watch as 

o 

narrowly as you please, the precise instant of 
either will remain undiscovered. The child 
comes into the world possessing this principle, 
and announcing its existence, and the sensibi¬ 
lity connected with it, by tears! The last pul¬ 
sation of the heart ceases, ere we are aware of 
the spirit’s departure. The closest observer of 
the communication and of the cessation of life, 
can only say, in relation to the first, “ It is there !” v 
—to the last—“ It is withdrawn !”—An invisi¬ 
ble hand forms the body, animates it with 
Spirit, expands the limbs, fixes the standard of 
stature, and sets bounds to the stream of human 
existence. He confines it now to eighty years, 
as formerly he extended it to nine centuries. 
Who will not say—“ I will praise thee,” O God, 
“ for I am fearfully and wonderfully made?— 


293 

* ( Marvellous are thy works, and that my soul 
“ knoweth right well. My substance was not 
“ hid from thee, when I was made in secret, 
“ and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of 
“ the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, 
“ yet being unperfect, and in thy book all my 
“ members were written, which in continuance 
“ were fashioned, when as yet there was none 
“ of them !” By the “ inspiration of the Al- 
“ mighty” we are what we are, in relation to 
natural life, which is given, withheld, limited, 
and extinguished, at his pleasure. 

2. “ The inspiration of the Almighty 

GIVETH US UNDERSTANDING.” The (UlWll of 

reason at the first is lighted up in the mind of a 
child by a Divine hand. He causes it to brighten, 
as the limbs enlarge their size, and acquire vi¬ 
gour. He leads the powers of the mind to per¬ 
fection, and fixes their standard. He makes 
all the difference which we perceive subsisting 
between man and man. He distributes, accord¬ 
ing to his pleasure, to some, ojie—^t o others, ten 
talents; and he proportions their responsibility 
to each respectively. The spirit which in this 
world seems unconfined, and which roves at 
large, with growing delight, through all the 
works of God; and that which is barely suffi¬ 
cient to carry it’s possessor through life, came 
from the same hand; and however different in 

u 3 


294 

tlieir capacities, are equally immortal. Through 
a thousand invisible channels, the Father of 
Spirits visits our spirit; and it is in vain that 
we desire to trace the modes of his communi¬ 
cations to his creatures. “ God speaketh once, 
“ yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not. In a 
“ dream, in a vision of the night, when deep 
“ sleep falleth upon men, in slumberings upon 
“ the bed: then he openeth the ears of men, 
“ and sealeth their instruction.” 

He touches the nerve of the brain, and the 
understanding seems to be lost. The spirit 
doubtless is perfect: but the instrument upon 
which she operated, the vehicle of her impulses, 
the fibre upon which she struck, is deranged 
and impaired. We are presented with that me¬ 
lancholy union, the stature of a man and the 
ignorance of a child ! All is mystery. A mind 
little inferior to what we conceive of angelic 
powers, is destroyed by the resistless force of 
it’s own imagination; and reason is subdued by 
the uncontrouled power of fancy.—Like a ma¬ 
jestic building raised upon too lofty a scale, it 
sinks under its own pressure—and from the 
very grandeur of the design becomes an heap 
of ruins. Like a bright meteor, shines the 
blaze of genius for a season; but, from some 
unknown cause, it is precipitated from it's ex¬ 
alted sphere in a moment, and the ray of intel- 


295 

lect which illumined the world—expires. We 
deplore in vain the ruins of that beautiful fabric, 
the human mind; and with anguish of spirit 
we discern the light of the understanding ex¬ 
tinguished. But we are not ignorant of the 
hand which quenches it. It is the same that 
kindled it at the first. These are the mysterious 
transactions of the Fountain of Life: “ For 
“ there is a spirit in man, and the inspiration 
“ of the Almighty giveth him understanding.” 

3. Spiritual knowledge is the gift of 
God. We too frequently see men of distin¬ 
guished talents, most deplorably ignorant in 
that knowledge, which of itself is able to coun¬ 
terbalance the want of all others; and without 
which, all science is less than nothing. We 
stand astonished, and look upon the man as 
something* more than mortal. What admirable 
powers of intellect! What a capacious under¬ 
standing ! What greatness of soul! What ge¬ 
nius ! What acquirements! What intelligence ! 
What pity is it the picture is not finished ! But 
the noble outline wants filling up by moral 
worth; and wanting that, it wants every thing. 
Alas ! “ one thing is needful”—and the lack of 
that one thing, destroys the worth of all! With¬ 
out this, that godlike capacity is degraded: 
those superior powers are abused. They are 
mischievous rather than useful. They are 

u 4 


296 

ruinous to their possessor, and injurious to so¬ 
ciety. They are turned against him who be¬ 
stowed them. They are wasted in wanton pro¬ 
fusion ; but they are followed by a dreadful re¬ 
sponsibility. If it should please God to kindle 
a ray of spiritual light in that mind, what might 
not such a man, in the right employment of 
such distinguished talents, perform ! But in the 
mean time, our position is established — that 
spiritual knowledge is the gift of God. 44 A 
“ man can receive nothing except it be given 
44 him from above.” We are naturally ignorant 
in all spiritual concerns. Still worse than this, 
every power of our mind is directed against 
divine knowledge. 44 This is the condemnation, 
44 that light is come into the world, but men 
44 love darkness rather than light, because their 
44 deeds are evil.” He, who leads the morning 
stars, and kindled the radiance of the sun ; He j 
who, 44 in the beginning,” said, 44 4 Let there be 
44 4 light,' and there was light;” He, who be¬ 
stows natural and intellectual life upon the 
man; He it is, who pours spiritual knowledge 
into the mind, and to Him is it ascribed in the 
scriptures. 44 There is a spirit in man, and the 
44 inspiration of the Almighty giveth him un- 
44 ders tan ding.” 

4. The future existence of the spirit 
will flow from God. Leaving this world, our 
prospects are unbounded. The word of God 


297 

draws aside the veil, and transports us to the foot 
of the eternal throne. The eye of faith numbers 
the different orders of glorious spirits which 
bend before the Deity. First, the va?*ious ranks 
of those pure Intelligences, those mysterious 
Beings, who never sinned, pass before the eye 
of the mind. These evermore cry, “ Holy, 
“ holy, holy Lord God Almighty"—and hide 
their faces before uncreated Excellence. And 
these derive their existence, and their powers 
from Him, before whom they do homage. Then, 
the myriads of the Redeemed pass along before 
us, divided into their companies, and possessing 
their respective degrees of glory : but it is “ a 
“ great multitude which no man can number.” 
Patriarchs, prophets, and apostles, lead the way: 
the noble army of martyrs follows: the general 
assembly and church of the firstborn, the spirits 
of the just made perfect, from Adam to the last 
spirit that fled from this vale of tears, are in 
this illustrious crowd, each of them clothed in 
righteousness, and bearing the emblem of vic¬ 
tory in his hand. And these all live upon the 
“ Fountain of Life"—all derive their superior 
intelligence from the “ Father of Lights.”— 
“ The inspiration of the Almighty givetli them 
“ understanding.” We have contemplated the 
natural dignity of man, and uncovered the 
source of his greatness; from all that has been 


298 


said, his destination may be prejudged ; and in¬ 
deed it has been interwoven throughout the 
texture of the whole of this Lecture: we may 
keep it in view also, in setting before you 


III. SOME REFLECTIONS ARISING OUT OF THIS 

SUBJECT. 

Is there “ a spirit in man?” 

1. How high is it’s destination! It was 
not designed to be immured in these walls of 
flesh for ever. The harps of angels invite us 
to our rest. Departed saints attract us for¬ 
wards. The voice of God himself calls us 
home. It is the combined testimony of the 
scriptures, of reason, of conscience, that this 
immaterial principle is destined for the enjoy¬ 
ment of God for ever. He who buries his 
expectations here forgets his dignity. Like 
his divine Lord, the Christian passes through 
this world in the shape of a servant; in the 
world of spirits he shall appear in all the 
majesty of an heir of glory. Yonder sun shall 
be extinguished; those stars shall fade; the 
beauties of creation shall be blotted out; the 
trump of God shall announce the dissolution 
of nature; the heavens shall be wrapped to¬ 
gether as a scroll; all shall be consumed; ail 


m 

shall be destroyed; the whole globe shall be 
a mass of ruins : but at that instant the con¬ 
cealing curtain shall fall; the new creation shall 
burst upon the enraptured sight; the redeemed 
spirit shall be put in possession of it’s everlast¬ 
ing habitation ; and the man shall enjoy God 
for ever.—Such is his high destination. 

Does “ the inspiration of the Almighty give 
us understanding?” 

2. How OUGHT THE POWERS OF THE SPIRIT* 

to be devoted to Him ! Shall I deem his ser¬ 
vice a drudgery, who made me what I am? 
who requires in return only that I should fear 
him, and love him ? and who, in order to in¬ 
duce me to obey his commands, assumes and 
exercises the most tender of characters and of re¬ 
lations ? O, ungrateful that I am! shall I deem 
the gentle requisitions of a father; the claims 
of an elder brother,' founded equally injustice 
and in kindness; the expectations of a friend-^ 
an hardship? Impossible! No—had he demand¬ 
ed the unceasing tribute of my spirit; had he 
marked out every moment of my life, as a sea¬ 
son of worship; I ought not, even then, to 
have deemed it an hard service ! Did he not be¬ 
stow those powers ? Has he not a right to do 
that which he will with his own ? Does he ask 
more than he gave? Did not Jesus die to save 
that spirit? Surely his commandments are not 


300 


grievous: but “ his yoke is easy, and his burden 
“ is light. 7 '—And are there any who live day 
after day without bowing their knee to God? 
Are there any who live in the neglect of secret 
prayer, upon whom he has bestowed an immor¬ 
tal spirit—perhaps distinguished talents? How 
are they to be pitied! The voice of joy from 
nature reproaches them—the voice of conscience 
from within reproaches them—the voice of the 
scriptures reproaches them: for it says—and 
reason seconds it's injunctions—“ Thou shalt 

love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, 
“ with all thy mind, with all thy soul, and with 
“ all thy strength.” 

Is there “ a spirit in man?” 

3. How vast is its loss ! I shudder to paint 
the lightest shades of this horrible picture. To 
die an enemy to God, is to have all the powers 
and capacities of the mind blotted out—I correct 
myself— not blotted out, but continued, and en¬ 
larged, only to increase the agony of their miser¬ 
able possessor. The tortures of futurity will be 
augmented by the bitterness of reflection and of 
self-reproach. The memory will be tenacious of 
all the scenes of the past life—and strong to re¬ 
call the opportunities which were neglected, 
the time which was wasted, the ordinances 
which were despised, the salvation which Was 
proffered, and which is now for ever, hid frotu 


I 


301 

their eyes! What a dagger to the heart is the 
reflection, “ I have done all this! my own hand 
has pulled down min upon my head; my 
“ own hand has extinguished the ray of hops 
“ for ever: my own hand has fixed the eternal 
u bars of this ever-during dungeon!” Is it not 
enough that now, when the spirit is wounded 
by the arrows of the Almighty, the accusations 
of conscience torture the bosom beyond the ut¬ 
most stretch of thought, but will you tempt 
the worst, and dare the arm of Omnipotent ven¬ 
geance to strike, and “ to cast body and soul 
“ into hell ?” Is it not enough that the groans 
from that prison reach our ears ? and that, 
through the medium of scripture, they: lan¬ 
guage is conveyed to us ? while they cry in 
ceaseless despair—“ Oh! how have we hated 
“ instruction, and our heart despised reproof 
“ and now we eat of the fruit of our own way, 
“ and are filled with our own devices; now he 
“ laugheth at our calamity, and mocketh, seeing 
“ our fear is come as desolation, and our de- 
“ struction as a whirlwind!” Will not these 
mournful shrieks arrest your attention, and 
shake your purpose, ye thoughtless and profane! 
but will you rush headlong to the same ruin? 
and do you with desperate rashness demand to 
be “ tormented in this flame ?” \ et pause one 
moment—are you prepared to endure the worst? 


302 


Have you asked yourselves the question which 
Isaiah puts into the mouth of the sinners and 
hypocrites in Zion, “ Who amongst us shall 
“ dwell with devouring fire ? Who amongst us 
“ shall dwell with everlasting burnings?” Be¬ 
fore you risque your spirit for the fleeting al¬ 
lurements of time, and sacrifice your eternal 
interests to the gratifications of this transient 
life, consider how vast is it’s loss ! Before you 
quite make up your minds that these things are 
“ cunningly devised fables,” calculate your da¬ 
mage, should all this prove at length a tremen¬ 
dous reality! 

Is “ there a spirit in man ?” 

4 . How DILIGENTLY OUGHT IT TO BE CUL¬ 
TIVATED! It is the happiness of man, that he 
has the power of increasing his talents, and 
enlarging the sphere of intellect, by diligence 
and by application. To the human spirit no boun¬ 
daries can be prescribed. Has God given thee, 
O young man, extensive powers ? Do not dimi¬ 
nish them by sloth; do not destroy them by 
intemperance: do not waste them in wanton 
expenditure : do not direct them to purposes 
offensive to God, injurious to society, and, in 
the event, destructive to thyself. Keep them 
as the sacred deposit of God. Hide not thy 
talent in a napkin. Bring it forwards for the 
service of religion, of humanity, and of reason. 


303 


It will increase by use; and the approbation of 
God shall be thy reward. 

Brethren, “ now are we the sons of God, and 
“ it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but 
“ we know that when he, who is our life, shall 
“ appear, we shall be made like him: for we 
“ shall see him as he is, and appear with him 
“ in glory.’’ The present state of the spirit, in 
it’s highest perfection of natural and religious 
culture, is nothing to the “ glory that shall be 
u revealed.” But the time presses on, when 
bending before the throne of God, it shall blaze 
forth, in the full perfection of. it's beauty and 
immortality. 

Such is the scriptural account of the nature 
and destination of man; and we now make our 
appeal to you, whether it is not rational and 
animating. It sanctions all that experience 
teaches us respecting the natural powers of the 
mind. It leads us up in grateful remembrance 
to him, who bestowed the principle of life, at 
the first, and who continues to impart it through 
all successive generations. It enhances it’s value 
by asserting and proving it's immortality. It 
renders the man useful to society, in cherishing 
the love of goodness, and in superinducing 
hatred to vice, by unveiling the future destina¬ 
tion of the spirit to eternal happiness as the 
free reward of piety, or eternal misery as the 


304 


just judgment of sin; and thus furnishes a more 
powerful guard of virtue, and barrier against 
vice, than all the laws of society could impose 
and preserve. 

He, then, that is an enemy to Revelation, is 
an enemy to himself. He that opposed reli¬ 
gion, opposes his best interests. He is extin¬ 
guishing, so far as he can extinguish, the light 
which is sent to guide him home; and to ab¬ 
sorb the feeble, inefficient rav of reason and of 
nature. He is refusing the only cup of conso¬ 
lation put into his hand to counteract the bitter 
draught of sorrow. He is rolling a great stone 
over the mouth of his own sepulchre, and seal¬ 
ing it with his own seal, and making it as sure 
as he can, in the hope (if annihilation can be a 
subject of hope to the human bosom!) that he 
shall sleep there for ever: but he shall find, to his 
utter dismay, that the angel of the Lord can roll 
away the stone, and that the mandate of heaven 
will rouse his slumbering dust. He is the 
enemy of mankind. For he is robbing society 
of the cement which holds it together: of the 
light which has illumined these latter days : of 
the source of it's intelligence, of it's happiness, 
of it’s consolations, of it’s best principles. And 
lie who is the enemy of man, is the enemy of 
God; for he is the Parent of the universe: the 


305 

Friend of man; he stamped human nature with 
his own image, and he loves it still. ' 

There is but one principle on which we can 
account for the hatred of the world against 
revelation; and that is—this very revelation 
asserted from the first, “ the carnal mind is en- 
mity against God, it is not subject to the law 
“ of God, neither indeed can be.” And the 
very persecutions it has endured, are evidences 
of it’s authenticity: the very existence of scep¬ 
ticism, so far as it goes, is an unanswerable ar¬ 
gument against infidelity—because it was fore¬ 
told and accounted for, by the Bible itself, at 
the very moment of it’s promulgation. 

One should have imagined that the gospel of 
Jesus, could have had no enemies. It breathes 
only peace. It has but one object—to promote 
the felicity of mankind. It sweetens every 
connection of human life. It strengthens the 
cause of philanthropy. The only favour it en¬ 
treats is, that men would love themselves; and 
while it pours a thousand blessings on the pre¬ 
sent transient existence, and lightens all the 
trials of the way, it shews wretched, erring 
man, “ the path of life.”—And yet every man’s 
hand is lifted up against it! From it’s birth to 
the present hour, every age has blended all it’s 
wisdom and all it’s force, to crush Christianity. 
Had it required the man to sacrifice “ his first- 


x 


u 


30 6 

born for his transgression, the fruit of his 
“ body for the sin of his sour'—who would 
have wondered that nature should rise up against 
it?—Yet strange to say—the horrible religion 
of the gentiles, which actually did require this 
unnatural offering, was supported, and defended 
against Christianity, with vehement obstinacy. 
The rage of man, on the one side, exhausted 
itself in defence of altars on which their chil¬ 
dren had been immolated; and on the other, 
was directed against a religion which hastened 
to overthrow these blood-stained altars, and 
which said, “ Suffer little children to come unto 
“ me, and forbid them not; for of such is the 
“ kingdom of heaven!”—Had it destroyed the 
peace and existence of society: had it scattered 
war and bloodshed over the earth: had it tram¬ 
pled on the dearest rights of human nature—why 
then, some reason might be given for the wrath of 
man against it. But it disseminates “ peace and 
“ good will to man,” abroad upon earth, while 
it brings in a revenue of “ glory to God.” We 

t 

can take it’s most furious persecutor by the 
hand, when he raves, “ Away with it from the 
“ earth !” and say, “ Why ? What evil hath it 
“ done?” And he shall be unable to assign a 
single reason for his conduct: unable to lay one 
sin to it’s charge: unable to prove that in any 
one instance it is injurious to society: unable 




t 


307 

to deny, that it has been productive of the most 
beneficial effects—that it has removed all the 
clouds of heathenism—that it has extinguished 
the fires through which wretched parents caused 
their children to pass, and in which the fruit of 
their body was consumed—that it has given to 
the world a new and perfect code of morality—* 
that it has thrown open the gates of mortality— 
that it has removed the bitterness of death— 
and that it has established, solely and unaided, 
the doctrine of the resurrection of the dead: 
he shall be compelled to admit all this, and yet, 
without a single reason, merely from his natural 
enmity to it, he will continue to despise, to re¬ 
ject, and to persecute it! Humanity is con¬ 
cerned in the progress of this religion : Hu¬ 
manity raises her voice in favour of revelation, 
and entreats, “ Rise up, Lord, let thine enemies 
“ be scattered; and let them that hate thee, 
“ flee before thee!” 


x 


o 


308 


LECTURE VIII. 

THE SLAVERY AND DELIVERANCE OP 
ISRAEL IN EGYPT. 


GEN. XV. 13 , 14 - 

And he said unto Abram, Know of a surety , that 
thy seed shall be a stranger in a land that is not 
theirs, and shall serve them, and they shall 
afflict them four hundred years . And also that 
nation whom they shall serve, will I judge: 
and afterward shall they come out with great 
substance . 


acts vn. 35 , 36 . 

This Moses whom they refused, saying, Who made 
thee a ruler and a judge? the same did God 
send to be a ruler, and a deliverer, by the hands 
of the angel zvhich appeared to him in the bush . 
He brought them out, after that he had shewed 
wonders and signs in the land of Egypt, and in 
the Red Sea, and in the wilderness forty years . 


There is a mournful pleasure in recalling 
the words, and reviewing the feelings, of those 
who are gone before;’ and whose lot in this 




\ 


V 


309 

world, like our own, was mingled in almost 
equal proportions of good and evil. Time lias 
effected changes, by his slow devastations, 
which speak to the heart; and we cannot hear 
the voice of years departed, without feeling 
our attention arrested, and amid the suspension 
of our employments, giving reverence to the 
testimony of those, whose wisdom, snatched 
from that all-destroying hand, remains upon 
record, for our instruction. We open this vo¬ 
lume, and are surrounded by scenes now blotted 
out from the face of nature : by actors who 
have performed their parts, and have vanished 
out of our sight. Here we see Babylon rearing 
her majestic head, in awful dignity, over the 
plains extended on every side. We shut the 

book, and the mighty empire disappears-- 

“ Babylon the great, is fallen! is fallen P Obli¬ 
vion has spread an impenetrable mist over the 
spot on which this queen of the nations stood, 
and we look in vain for some traces of her 
former greatness. In the Bible we are intro¬ 
duced to Jerusalem in all her glory. We see 
the tabernacle of God lifting it’s hallowed cur¬ 
tains on the summit of Mount Zion. We hear 
the voice of the “ sweet singer of Israel” rising 
amid the devotions of that dispensation, and 
his words are chanted to the harmony of a 

x 3 


s 



310 

thousand stringed instruments. We. withdraw 
our eyes from the sacred page, and imagination 
loses her power; the visions which the pleasing 
enchantress painted before us, vanish; and we 
see the shadows flit away, with regret. But all 
is not delusion—the words which we hear—the 
experience of the persons whose lives we study— 
the precepts which were given them, and which 
still remain upon record—are engraven upon 
our hearts in characters never to be obliterated. 

Customs change with years. Yet is man in 
the present day, what he was in ages that are 
passed: only he was surrounded by different 
scenes, he was led by different habits. His 
peculiar situation, his local circumstances, exist 
no longer; but he had the same principles com¬ 
mon to human nature, the same feelings, the 
same necessities, the same expectations. Our 
fathers felt, like ourselves, the pleasures of 
hope, the anguish of disappointment, the pant- 
ings of suspense, the throbbings of joy, the 
pangs of fear. They lived uncertain of the 
future. They trembled as they approached the 
brink of time. The world which they now in¬ 
habit, and the mysteries of which are now laid 
open to them, was once as secret, and as much 
an object of the mingled emotions of appre¬ 
hension and of hope, to them as to us. There 


311 


were moments when their faith was not in lively 
exercise, and when the fear of death was as 
powerfully felt in their bosoms as in our own. 
Then they fled to this word for support, and 
derived from it the sweetest consolation. Yes— 
and we are hastening to be what they are. 
After a few years, we shall join their society. 
We are floating down the same stream, over 
which their vessels have already passed: borne 
along by the same current, we sail between 
the same winding banks, pass through the same 
straits, meet with the same rocks and quick¬ 
sands, and are agitated by the same tempests: 
but they have safely anchored in the haven, 
and we are stretching all our canvass to make 
the same point of destination, that, with them, 
we may be sheltered from the storm, for ever! 
We avail ourselves of the directions which they 
have left behind them, because in all ages “ the 
“ Author and Finisher of our faith” is the same. 
He will be to future generations, what he was 
to them, what he is to us. When our posterity 
shall trample upon our dust, when our very 
names shall have perished from the record of 
time, when new faces shall appear on this wide 
and busy scene of action, the name of God 
will remain to our children, the same as it ap¬ 
pears this night to us, the same as it was an- 

x 4 


312 


nounced to Moses from the bush which burned 
with fire and was not consumed— “ I am that 
“ I am !”- 

The channels of a man’s information are con¬ 
fined to the past and to the present. He travels 
with a mist perpetually before his eyes: but 
when he looks back—the road which he has 
already trodden is clearly discernible : no va¬ 
pour hovers over it: it is visible in all it’s parts, 
except those very remote portions of it which 
have dwindled into the obscurity of prolonged 
perspective. The faithful and impartial record 
of the inspired pages, causes the earliest periods 
of time to roll back for the instruction of these 
latter days. In a moment we feel ourselves 
transported into the garden of God, and hear his 
voice whispering amid the trees of Paradise in 
the cool of the day. We accompany the pa¬ 
triarch from his country and his father’s house : 
we traverse with him, conducted by an invisible 
hand, the land, in the “ length thereof, and 
“ in the breadth thereofwe rest wherever he 
pitches. his tent: we participate his domestic 
joys and sorrows; and at length we follow him 
to his long home, and see his body deposited 
in the grave, there to slumber “ until the times 
“ of the restitution of all things.” We are 
hurried into the camps of the Alexanders and 


Caesars of the day : we visit their tents, and 
listen to their projects to disturb the repose of 
mankind: we perceive these designs carried 
into effect, just so far as the wisdom of Pro¬ 
vidence permits, and no farther: and we see 
these destroyers of the order and harmony of 
society, sinking one after another into the dust 
and the silence of death. History snatches 
from the hand of time, all that is valuable and 
useful. By her magic pencil the departed vi¬ 
sions of ancient days return, and the fathers 
pass and repass before our eyes, that we may 
see, and admire, and imitate their excellencies : 
that we may abhor and avoid their vices: that 
we may pity and escape their weaknesses : that 
our understandings may be enlightened, our 
judgments established in the truth, and our 
minds conducted through the lowly and peace¬ 
ful paths of religion to the eternal temple of 
God. 

And we derive information from the sources 
of present knowledge, and from the teachings 
of present experience. Every day adds some¬ 
thing to the intellectual stature of an intelli¬ 
gent man: every day developes something im¬ 
portant and interesting. The moment reason 
dawns upon the mind, the man finds himself 
surrounded by beings occupying the same rank 


314 


with himself in the scale of creation : he feels 
his destiny and his happiness inseparably linked 
with their s; and he awakes to a sense of new 
duties, involving in them a correspondent re¬ 
sponsibility. He can no longer deem himself 
an idle spectator of the bustle and activity 
around him. Every day something transpires 
which affects his interests and his peace: or the 
interest and the peace of those whom he loves; 
and he is drawn from his solitude in spite of 
himself—he is roused into exertion in defiance 
of his preference for inactivity. He is soon 
involved in a thousand perplexities. He calls 
in the assistance of his contemporaries, that 
he may avail himself of the aid of their obser- 
vations, in connection with his own, to learn 
something of the road which they are mutually 
travelling; and that by their combined exer¬ 
tions they may more successfully combat, and 
more effectually subdue, the temptations by 
which they are mutually assaulted. We are 
justified then, my friends, in trying every source 
of information which God permits to us—and 
not only in availing ourselves of present expe¬ 
rience, but in plundering, as at this time, the 
past of it’s treasures. 

But we know nothing of futurity . God has 
reserved to himself the knowledge of that which 


315 


shall be: and he conceals it from the highest 
orders of his intelligent creation. 

Chain’d to his throne a volume lies. 

With all the fates of men: 

_ « • « • . i • ■. , 

With ev’ry angel’s form and size 
Drawn by th’ eternal pen. 

It * 9 ^ - • 

His providence unfolds the book. 

And makes his counsels shine ; 

Each opening leaf, and ev’ry stroke, 

Fulfils some deep design. 

Here he exalts neglected worms 
To sceptres and a crown : 

Anon the following page he turns, 

And treads the monarch down. 

Nor Gabriel asks the reason why, 

Nor God the reason gives; 

Nor dares the favourite angel pry 
Between the folded leaves ! * 

\ • • • 

We may go back to the creation of the world, 
but we know not what shall be on the morrow. 
He alone knowetli the end from the bepinninsr: 
and we shall have occasion to notice a most 
decisive evidence of this foreknowledge, in the 
prediction with which we commenced this Lec¬ 
ture respecting the subject of the present discus¬ 
sion, and which was delivered four hundred 


* Dr. Watts’ Lyric Poems, b, I; poem 




years before the event to which it relates was 
accomplished. 

The book of Exodus commences with a reci¬ 
tal, by name, of the eleven patriarchs, who 
accompanied their father into Egypt, God hav¬ 
ing sent Joseph before them, to provide for 
them, and to nourish their little ones. With 
conciseness characteristic of the sacred writings, 
Moses sums up the number of the family of 
Jacob, sweeps off that generation, exhibits the 
increasing population of their descendants, and 
hastens to 

The slavery' and deliverance of Israel 
in Egypt : which part of his narration is to 
occupy your attention at this time. We shall, 
as usual, simply detail the facts as they are re¬ 
corded by Moses, and corroborate them by fo¬ 
reign testimonies. Let us 


I. DETAIL THE FACTS AS THEY ARE RECORDED 

BY MOSES. 

In discovering the sources of the slavery and 
sufferings of the Israelites, we are naturally led 
to contemplate the wonderful changes effected 
by the lapse of a few years. Nor shall we find 
it difficult to persuade those, of the truth and 


317 

fidelity of the sacred historian’s representations 
on this point, who have accustomed themselves 
to mark the vicissitudes around them, caused 
by the revolution of a few months, not to say 
years. What changes are effected in one year 1 
When we separate, who can say whether we 
shall see each other’s faces in the flesh again? 
We meet at the house of friendship—we behold 
the father of a family happy and exulting. The 
bloom of health blushes in the cheek of his v 
children. The partner of his life enjoys unusual 
vivacity. We return — but grief spreads her 
shadow over his countenance. In the inter¬ 
mediate space of a few weeks, the spoiler, 
death, has robbed him of his wife, or of some 
of his children: or perhaps we find the mother 
a widow, and the children‘fatherless. A man 
who travels along the vale of years, finds him¬ 
self deserted by his contemporaries, and passes 
through the most gloomy part of his way, while 
the evening sun sets upon him, alone. Some 
have left him from mutability of disposition: 
some are divided from him by distance: some 
have been separated from his interests, by form¬ 
ing new connections: some have been driven 
from his embraces by the envenomed tongue of 
calumny: some have gone before him into the 
land of spirits. And thus the sons of Jacob 
sunk one after another into the grave, till Egypt 


318 

Was covered with a new generation, mutually 
strange to each other. 

How much is suspended upon the life of an 
individual! What an object of weakness, what 
a broken reed, is that individual sinking into 
the arms of death! How soon his services are 
forgotten, and his memory is buried with him 
in his sepulchre! Connected with life, are all 
the diversified comforts with which the human 
mind has formed any acquaintance. The chari¬ 
ties of friendship, the blessings of society in all 
it’s ramifications, the felicity of domestic en¬ 
joyment, the relations of father and child, of 
husband and wife, of a man and his brother, 
the reciprocal duties arising out of these, the 
consolations immutably connected with them—» 
are all suspended in this trembling balance— 
life —are all obliterated in the instant of it’s 
expiration—all vanish, when the spirit quits 
the clay tabernacle! Yonder fragment of the 
human form—the wreck of man—all that has 
fallen into the relentless hand of death—once 
enjoyed the comforts, the magnificence, the 
pride of power—diffused the felicity which he 
participated—acted and moved a prince in the 
circle of society—and, a star of the first mag¬ 
nitude, irradiated the satellites which revolved 
around him. To him the young looked up for 
intelligence: his tongue moved only to utter 


519 

wisdom, and his words dropped as the lattet 
rain. When he opened his lips every murmur 
Was hushed, and thousands moved not, held, as 
it were by enchantment, and bound by the ma¬ 
gic of his eloquence. Such he was! but all 
these honours stood inseparably connected with 
life, and with it’s exhausted lamp, the ray of 
intelligence which illumined the world—ex¬ 
pired! Such was Joseph—but when he died, the 
light of his brethren was quenched, and the 
staff of his father’s house, broken! 

“ And Joseph died, and all his brethren, and 
“ all that generation.” Who is not charmed 
with this impressive mode of describing the re¬ 
volutions of time? Other writers would have 
dwelt long upon a theme so copious, and would 
have exhausted all their eloquence upon a sub¬ 
ject which furnishes such ample scope for de¬ 
scription. But what prolonged narrative could 
be equally striking with this single verse? It’s 
brevity in a moment sets before you the velocity 
with which the stream rolls ages and genera¬ 
tions along to the illimitable abyss of eternity. 
There is not a period to the sentence till a whole, 
generation is swept away ! One should imagine 
that Moses had snatched a feather from the 
wing of time, to record the swiftness of his 
flight, and the rapidity of his desolations! 

Joseph died—-but the God of Abraham lived— 


520 


lived to remember and to accomplish his pro¬ 
mise. “ And the children of Israel were fruit- 
“ ful, and increased abundantly, and multiplied, 
“ and waxed exceeding mighty : and the land 
“ was filled with them.” Their preservation in 
this deserted condition is rendered credible by 
that which our eyes witness every day, in their 
present population, the marks which they carry 
in their countenance decisively characteristic of 
their nation, and their separation from all the 
people among whom they dwell, although scat¬ 
tered over the face of the whole earth. This is 
one of the standing miracles which infidelity 
can neither gainsay nor resist. 

“ Now there arose a new king over Egypt 
who knew not Joseph.” It is not improbable 
that he might be a stranger, or a foreigner, ex¬ 
alted to the throne, for the government of 
Egypt was elective, and their princes succes¬ 
sively took the name of Pharaoh, as it was the 
custom of the Roman emperors long afterwards 
to bear that of Caesar. And if this monarch was 
chosen from among the Egyptians, seven kings 
had reigned, and sixty years elapsed, between 
the death of Joseph and his ascension to the 
throne; a space of time more than sufficient 
to obliterate the signal services of a minister 
from the bosom of princes. The bodily strength 
of the Israelites, and their prodigious numbers, 


321 


alarmed this jealous monarch; and with narrow, 
barbarous policy, he “ set over them task- 
“ masters to afflict them, and they made their 
“ lives bitter with hard bondage/’ It was now 
that the prophecy delivered to Abraham began 
to be accomplished: for they were “ strangers 
“ in a land that was not theirs”—and that , in 
a state of servitude. 

The hand of God continued to work in de¬ 
fiance of the weak and cruel king of Egypt, 
and “ the more they afflicted them, the more 
“ they multiplied and grew.” The measures of 
Pharaoh became proportionably severe ; and not 
satisfied with imposing the fetters of slavery, 
he commanded that every male child should 
be cast into the river so soon as it was born. 
This decree, as unnatuval as it was sanguinary, 
was executed but too severely by those to whom 
the commission was given! The voice of lamen- 
tation was heard throughout the land; “ Ra- 
“ chel, weeping for her children, refused to be 
“ comforted because they were not.” Day after 
day the sun arose and set in blood. In child¬ 
birth the mother felt the double pangs of na¬ 
ture : she no longer rejoiced when a man-child 
was born into the world as the recompense of 
her pains: she could no longer look forwards 
with pleasing hope, and say, “ This same shall 
“ comfort us, concerning our work and the 

y 


S22 


“ toil of our hands:” the moment the infant 
beheld the light, the stern decree of the inhu¬ 
man monarch consigned it to the grave! 

At this perilous period Moses was born. Three 
months, three anxious months, maternal ten¬ 
derness eluded the vigilance of the king, and 
the mother concealed her child. She struggled 
to save his life so long as it was practicable: 
the danger became every day more pressing; 
and there remained to her but one desperate re¬ 
source—if resource it might be called, which 
hope scarcely dared to Hatter, and which was 
no less than to expose her babe on the banks 
of the river. What could she do? Say, ye mo¬ 
thers, what would you have done ? If she kept 
him he must die: if she exposed him there was 
a possibility—a bare possibility that he might 
live ! An ark of bulrushes was quickly framed; 
and in this frail casket, she laid the jewel, more 
precious to her than thousands of gold and sil¬ 
ver, in the flags by the river’s brink. Tearing 
herself from the spot, she consigned to his sis¬ 
ter the cruel task of watching what would be¬ 
come of him. Yonder he lies, sleeping on the 
banks of the Nile, unconscious of the dangers 
which hover around his defenceless head. Un¬ 
der the surface of the waters, slumbered the 
fierce, unpitying crocodile, the native of that 
river. Should a breath of wind arise, the bul- 


3 23 

rush ark would be wafted from the flags, and 
precipitated into the midst of the stream, a ves¬ 
sel, alas! too frail long to resist the waves. 

In this interval of bitter suspense, the daugh¬ 
ter of Pharaoh drew near to the river, and dis¬ 
covering the ark, commanded that it should be 
brought to her. “ And when she had opened 
“ it, she saw the child : and behold, the babe 
“ wept.” The pressing calls of hunger broke 
his repose, and he missed the warm, affection¬ 
ate embrace of his mother. His limbs were 
chilled by the cold waves, and his tears excited 
the compassion of the princess. His sister, who 
stood by, with feelings which cannot be de¬ 
scribed, a spectator of the whole scene, was 
sent to call an Hebrew woman to nurse him: 
and “ the maid went and called the child's mo- 
“ ther.” 

Ah, little did the princess imagine, when she 
snatched this helpless babe from a watery grave, 
that she wa§ the instrument of raising up a de¬ 
liverer to the Israelites, who should shake the 
throne of Egypt to it’s foundation. She little 
thought that the deserted child of a wretched 
Hebrew slave, when increased in years, would 
acquire unparalleled glory, as a legislator, as a 
prophet, as a general, and as a monarch. She 
did not foresee, when she beheld the ark float¬ 
ing, the sport of winds, and the child exposed 

J 2 


324 


equally to the waters, and to the crocodiles of 
the river, and pity touched her bosom, that he 
would stand upon the shores of the Red Sea, 
not only the witness, but the instrument, of the 
destruction of the flower and strength of Egypt: 
and that he would thus become the righteous 
avenger, at once of the cruelties of her father 
and his successor, and of the wrongs of his 
brethren, which they had so long endured, in 
patient submission, and with broken spirits! 

“ And the child grew"—and Stephen adds, he 
“ was learned in all the wisdom of the Egyp- 
“ tians.” With a modesty becoming the meek¬ 
est of men, Moses passes over his several at¬ 
tainments : but the testimony of the first mar¬ 
tyr for Christianity is abundantly confirmed, by 
the intrinsic excellence of those very compo¬ 
sitions which are now passing under our re¬ 
view. Clemens A lexandrinus* asserts, “ that 
“ Moses was taught arithmetic, geometry, phy- 
“ sic, music, and hieroglyphics: to which Philo 
u adds astronomy')'/’—Should any one be disposed 
to insinuate, or to imagine, that from the fables 
of Egypt Moses framed his history of the crea- 


* Clem. Alex. lib. i. See Anc. Unir. Hist. Vol. II. b. i. chap. 7 . 
note N. 

f Philo in viu Mosis, 




325 

tion, let him compare the Egyptian hypothesis, 
which is all confusion and absurdity, with the 
scriptural account, which is all order and per¬ 
spicuity : besides which, we have the most de¬ 
cisive evidences, that the Egyptian hypothesis 
is later by far than the Mosaic writings. The 
oldest writers extant yield to Moses in point of 
antiquity; and however distorted their compo¬ 
sitions are, they betray their source, and bear 
strong internal evidences, that they are impel-' 
feet traditions from these pure records. 

If Moses was indebted, in the first instance, 
to the literature of Egypt, for the high rank 
which he holds among the ancient writers, he 
was indebted still more to the capacious natural 
powers which God bestowed upon him, without 
which, no culture of science could have elevated 
him so high, as an historian of such literary 
eminence. He furnishes one among many evi¬ 
dences, that in a variety of respects one man 
differs from another. In respect of talents, 
man differs from man. We sometimes meet 
with a spirit emerging from it's native obscu¬ 
rity, and attracting the admiration of the world. 
Every thing conspired to throw the man into 
the shade. Poverty frowned upon his birth, 
and shut the doors of knowledge against him. 
When he entered life, he mingled unnoticed 
with the crowd. But none could close the 

y 3 


326 


book of nature before him, and no disadvan¬ 
tages could suppress the vigour of a spirit, bom 
to rise, and to astonish. Following only the 
benignity of nature, he brings from his mind 
such ample stores of observation, and discovers 
so much native genius, that he ascends at once 
to eminence; and like a sun veiled from his 
rising, reveals at once to the world his glory in 
it’s noontide brightness. Hard by him stands 
one, forced into notice. He was born noble and 
affluent. Every possible mean of improvement 
was put into his hand, and the book of know¬ 
ledge was opened to his view. No pains were 
spared, no expense was withheld, in his educa¬ 
tion. And yet his very elevation is painful. It 
is that of fortune, and not that of nature. He 
is always placed in a conspicuous situation, to 
be always despised; and the literary advantages 
which he enjoyed, have been unable to correct 
the deficiencies of nature. They descended 
upon his unfruitful mind, like the showers of 
the spring upon the sands of the desert, which 
imbibe the rain, but return neither grass nor 
flower. In respect of literature, one man 
differs from another. Here stands a favoured 
son of science, who has access to nature in all 
her parts, through the avenues of deep and 
learned research. He has made the dead, and 
the living, contribute to his pleasure, and to his 


327 

Improvement. He has plundered time of all 
the treasures, which he had snatched from fall¬ 
ing empires, and rescued from the greedy grave 
of oblivion. And he moves among his fellow- 
men, an angel for illumination, and an oracle 
for wisdom. There stands his neighbour, gaz¬ 
ing with unconscious eyes upon the page, which 
he is devouring. He sees no beauty in that 
oration—no force in that train of reasoning— 
no conclusion in that demonstration—no order 
in those starry heavens. All access to the tree 
of knowledge is denied to him; and he turns 
from the page full of genius, of energy, of in¬ 
telligence, and says, “ I cannot read it, for I 
“ am not learned.” In respect of rank in 
society, one man differs from another. One is 
born to sway a sceptre, and to rule a powerful 
empire. Nations tremble at his frown, and 
princes are his servants. His navy thunders 
along every hostile shore, and the sword of his 
army is drunk with the blood of the slain. He 
travels—and a whole country is in motion. Har¬ 
bingers precede his face, guards encompass his 
person, a willing people bow the knee to him. 
Not daring to lift his eyes, yonder peasant re¬ 
tires, as the equipage passes, and turns his 
rough hand, rendered hard by labour, to the 
most menial services. He eats bread, and 
drinks water, with heaviness of heart. A large 

v 4 


328 


family multiplies upon him. His children cry 
with hunger. He gives them all—he divides 
the last loaf among them, and returns himself 
faint to the labour of the field, without tasting 
a morsel, lest he should diminish their scanty 
pittance. And yet he also is a child of huma¬ 
nity! In respect of religious principle, one 
man differs from another. Here, is a man who 
receives every blessing as the gift of heaven 
with thankfulness : who bends with lowly re¬ 
signation under the stroke which robs him of 
his comforts. In his habitation, however hum¬ 
ble, the voice of prayer and of praise is con¬ 
stantly heard; and his comforts, however few, 
are augmented by the benign influences of piety. 
There, is a wretched man, deemed happy by 
the world, who never bowed his knee before 
God his maker; and never knew a gratification 
beyond pampering his appetite, and amassing 
wealth. Yet both are men, and equally re¬ 
sponsible to God. With great natural genius, 
Moses enjoyed profound literature: from an ob¬ 
scure situation he rose high in the rank of so¬ 
ciety: to all these, he added fervent piety; 
and for all, he was far more indebted to God 
than to man. 

Respecting the first forty years of his life 
nothing is recorded by Moses himself; and we 
shall not fill up the blank by reciting the fables 


of the Jewish rabbies. But one thing stands 
on record, by the pen of an apostle, and that 
is to his everlasting honour: that, “ when he 
“ was come to years, he refused to be called 
“ the son of Pharaoh's daughter; choosing 
“ rather to suffer affliction with the people of 
“ God, than to enjoy the pleasure of sin for a 
“ season: esteeming the reproach of Christ 
“ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt: 
“ for he had respect unto the recompence of 
“ the reward.” 

Having attained the stature and strength of 
a man, the first effort of Moses was to break 
the rod of oppression. Seeing an Egyptian 
smite an Israelite, one of his brethren, with 
much barbarity, he slew the officer, and buried 
him in the sand. It should seem, that this 
action was performed under a divine commis¬ 
sion, since Stephen says, “ he supposed his 
“ brethren would have understood, how that 
“ God, by his hand would deliver them; but 
“ they understood not."—So fir from it, that 
the next day, when two Hebrews strove, and 
he interposed his friendly offices towards heal¬ 
ing the breach, they not only did not accept 
his mediation, but accused him of the slaughter 

of the Egyptian. The thing reached the ears 

■ 

of the king; and Moses, finding that it was 
known, and that his life was in danger, fled 


330 


into the land of Midian, in Arabia Petrea, the 
metropolis of which was called Petra, not far 
from Horeb : which was either a mountain near 
that of Sinai, or Sinai and Iloreb were two 
summits of the same mountain, or Horeb was 
the common name for the whole ridge of moun¬ 
tains upon which Sinai was situated: so deno¬ 
minated probably from their excessive dry¬ 
ness*. 

In his banishment he married Zipporah, the 
daughter of the priest, or prince, of Midian: 
by whom he had a son, whom he called Ger- 
sliam, which signifies, “ a strange)' here” in 
allusion to his own situation. About this time 
the king of Egypt died: and his successor, in 
.compliance with customs of the time, was also 
called Pharaoh: but this change in the govern¬ 
ment of Egypt, effected no relaxation in the 
sufferings of Israel. 

* But at length the hand of God was inter¬ 
posed ; and the set time for the expiration of 
their bondage having arrived — God “ heard 
u their cries—remembered his covenant—looked 
fc upon his people—and had respect unto them.” 
While Moses kept the flock of his father-in-law 
at the foot of Horeb, he saw a bush which 


* See Anc. Univ. Hist, Vol, II. b. i. chap. 7. note Q. 




burned with fire, and was not consumed: strik¬ 
ing emblem of the state of his brethren, who 
were at that time—“ persecuted, but not for- 
<£ saken—cast down, but not destroyed P Turn¬ 
ing aside to examine this phenomenon, the voice 
of God addressed him, and commanded him to 
draw off his shoes, because the ground on which 
he stood was holy. Perhaps the custom of per¬ 
sons’ putting off their shoes when they entered 
a temple, of which we read, might arise origi¬ 
nally from some tradition of this history. 

And now opens his awful commission—a 
commission so novel in it’s kind, so difficult in 
it’s execution, and so important in it's conse¬ 
quences, that we cannot wonder at the reluc¬ 
tance which Moses felt and manifested, when 
commanded to undertake it. But who is able 
to withstand the counsel of God? His objec¬ 
tions are overruled: his difficulties are removed: 
his brother Aaron is joined with him in the em¬ 
bassy ; and the great and awful name, Jehovah, 
is the name by which God sends to the Israel¬ 
ites. This name was afterwards never pro¬ 
nounced by the Jews but once a year, and 
then by the high-priest only, in dismissing the 
people. 

Who is not prepared for some great events, 
when the embassy is not from one prince to 
another, but from God to man? The commis- 


532 


sion of Moses opened and closed with miracles, 
God had said that he would ct judge the nation” 
which should “ oppress” the seed of Abraham; 
and he therefore permitted the heart of the king 
of Egypt to be hardened. Upon this principle, 
perhaps, we may account for the circumstance, 
of his suffering the magicians successfully to 
imitate some of the miracles of Moses. A ques¬ 
tion has long been agitated respecting the 
operations of these men, the. power by which 
they were performed, the agency of demons, 
and the existence of magical arts. It is a dis¬ 
cussion foreign to a simple narration of facts: 
and would your time allow us to bring forwards 
the various opinions of those who have written 
on the subject, we should only weary your at¬ 
tention, and bewilder your imaginations*. 

It could afford you no pleasure to night to 
recount the unequal contest between Pharaoh, 
and the Deity: to see a worm of the dust, lift¬ 
ing up his hand against God; or to dwell upon 
the afflictions which he brought upon himself, 
and upon his people. All nature was armed 
against this rebel. The water throughout Egypt 
was turned into blood : and when it recovered 
its natural colour and qualities, it became pro- 

... 1 11 ' —■ " ■■ '" ■ ■ '■ ■l. m * 

^ 


* See note 1, at the end of this Lecture, 




333 


lific, and was the source of a new plague, in 
sending forth swarms of frogs. The very dust"" 
of the earth was animated, and was made an 
instrument of torture; The air was filled with 
insects. The cattle, and the inhabitants of the 
land, died, with diseases new and intolerable. 
The artillery of heaven opened upon this stub¬ 
born empire: God “ cast forth his ice like mor- 
“ sels:” he “thundered in the heavens,” and 
“ the fire ran along the ground.” And what 
the hail and the tempest had spared, the next 
display of divine power utterly destroyed. An 
east wind blew a day and a night, and an army 
of locusts rode upon it's rough pinion. Terrible 
beyond description is the desolation effected by 
these irresistible invaders in a few hours; and 
unhappy is the country wherever they alight— 
for they leave it “ a desolate wilderness!” When 
these fearful enemies were withdrawn, a dark¬ 
ness, prolonged three days and three nights, 
brooded over this wretched people—a darkness 
which might be felt! 


“ Not such as this; not such as nature makes; 

“ A midnight, nature shudder’d to behold; 
u A midnight new ! a dread eclipse (without 
t( Opposing spheres) from her Creator’s frown* ! M 


* Young’s Night Thoughts: Night IV. 1. 24f-2o0. 






334 


With inflexible obstinacy the king refused 
to release the Israelites, and the last blow was 
now to be struck. Behold then, the families of 
Egypt retiring to rest, as every family retires— 
anticipating the pleasures and the duties of the 
morrow. The young man bounds to his cham¬ 
ber, with a foot unwearied by labour. The 
only son of the widow, the hope and staff of 
her age, receives the evening salutation of ma¬ 
ternal tenderness, and sinks to repose. The 
mother who has just entered upon that tender 
relation, and has just begun to feel it’s pleasing 
anxieties, lays her sleeping babe upon her bo¬ 
som, and smiles upon him, with inexpressible 
delight. Even the captive in the dungeon is 
bound in the softer fetters of sleep, and his 
firstborn reposes by his side, a voluntary prisoner 
with his father. Pharaoh yields to a milder do¬ 
minion, and a more gentle sceptre than his own ; 
and hard by rests his eldest hope. All is silent; 
and of this multitude who have fallen asleep 
without apprehension, how many shall never see 
the morning rise! It is the hour of midnight— 
and in an instant sleep is chased from every eye 
—a general groan reverberates from the palace 
to the prison— u there is not an house in which 
“ there is not one dead!”—From this terrible 
plague the family of every Israelite was exempt- 


335 

eel. A lamb, the type of him, who was to be 
slain, in the fulness of time, to take away the 
sin of the world, was sacrificed; and the blood 
sprinkled on the lintel and on the two side-posts 
of the door: and overall the houses, upon which 
the blood was seen, the destroying angel passed, 
and the inhabitants remained unhurt. 

Before the morning rose, the Egyptians were 
urgent with the people to depart, and Pharaoh 
,sent them forth with haste. “ And the children 
“ of Israel borrowed of the Egyptians, jewels 
“ of silver, and jewels of gold, and raiment.” 
We notice this passage, because from it the 
opposers of revelation, have been pleased to 
deny to the Israelites common honesty. We 
wave the principle upon which they might be 
justified, in contending that they had amply 
earned all that they borrowed of the Egyptians, 
by the works which they had performed, during 
their bondage, without recompense ; and shall 
only submit a plain criticism on the Hebrew 
word, which our translators render, “ to borrow .” 
It is, derived from —a word the pri¬ 

mary sense of which is, not to borrow , but to 
ask as a gift; as may be seen by the following 
passage, where the same word is used—“ Ask 
ic of me, and I will give thee the heathen for 
“ thine inheritance, and the uttermost part of 


336 


tl the earth for thy possession*.” Josephus, in 
his ancient history of the Jews, puts this con¬ 
struction upon the text, and says, “ The Egyp- 
“ tians honoured them zvith presents, partly to 
“ induce them the sooner to depart, and partly 
“ on account of their intimacy with thenvf.” 

The plains of Rameses near Goshen, the land 
which Joseph gave to Israel, and which was the 
part of Egypt the nearest to Canaan, was the 
place where they assembled: and they num¬ 
bered “ six hundred thousand on foot, that were 
“ men, beside children.” They left Egypt, ac¬ 
cording to the prediction, at the expiration of 
four hundred and thirty years, computing from 
the time when the promise was first given to 
Abraham. And they carried with them the 


* Ps. IX. 8.—The phrase is, niDKI ^1'O'D b&V —In the interpre¬ 
tation which I have given of I have not followed merely the 

opinion of lexicographers, who all agree that it’s first sense is to ask 
us a gift; but upon a close examination of the different senses iti 
which the word is used in the Bible, in pursuing which I followed 
Taylor’s Hebrew Concordance, I found, among innumerable pas¬ 
sages requiring this first sense, but four which would bear the inter¬ 
pretation to borrozo: and one of these is the passage in question— 
the other, the dedication of Samuel by his mother to the service of 
God. The remaining two, are in 2 Kings iv. 3. and 2 Kings vi. 5. 
where unquestionably it can have no other meaning than to borrozo. 

f Joseph. Antiq. Jud. Tom. I. lib. 11. cap. 15. p. 87. Hudson! 
edit. His words are —it Ej^afas st^wv.— 




337 

bones of Joseph, in obedience to his dying re¬ 
quisition* 

One more struggle was yet to be made. Not¬ 
withstanding the evils they had endured, Pha¬ 
raoh, and all Egypt, regretted the departure of 
Israel, and resolved to pursue after them, to 
reduce them to their former state of servitude. 
He overtook them by the brink of the Red 
Sea—and in the moment when no way of 
escape appeared, and they had given up all for 
lost, at the command of God the sea was di¬ 
vided, and they passed through, “ as upon dry 
“ land.” The king of Egypt and his army fol¬ 
lowed hard after them into the sea: after being; 
terrified and discomfited the whole night by the 
power of God, in the morning they wished to 
relinquish the pursuit. But the Israelites had 
now reached the opposite shore; and the sea, 
returning in it’s strength, buried the king, and 
his army, under it’s billows. 

Such is the Mosaic record of the slavery and 
deliverance of Israel, upon which. we should 
not have detained you so long, were it not, that 
the remaining part of our subject is very short, 
and we entreat your patient attention for a few 
minutes, to 


* See note 2, at the end of this Lecture, 

Z 


* 




338 



If. THE FOREIGN TESTIMONIES WHICH REMAIN 

TO THESE FACTS*. 

Respecting the authority of that portion of 
sacred history over which we have now passed, 
let the following particulars be observed : 

1. It cannot be denied that there did exist 
such a person as Moses; and that he was the 
Jewish legislator. Justin, in his abridgment 
of Trogus Pompeius'l*, mentions his beauty; and 
Longinus cites him by name, in his character 
as a lawgiver, and quotes the beginning of Ge¬ 
nesis, as an instance of the true sublime. 

2. It will not be disputed that Moses brought 
the children of Israel from Egypt. This fact is 
not only asserted throughout the whole of the 
sacred writings, but confirmed by the combined 
evidence of all ancient historians. 

Manetho gives an account of the time, the 
manner, and many of the principal circum¬ 
stances, attending this event; as we learn from 
Josephus in his first book against ApionJ. 


* The statements which follow, are selected principally from 
Bishop Watson's Theological Tracts: Vol. I. p. 294, &c. 
f Justin, lib. xxxvi. cap. 2. 

| Manetho, as is customary in ancient writers,-because of the 




339 

Justin mentions their departure, but assigns 
a false reason for it: this, however, does not 
invalidate his testimony respecting the fact in 
question; and so far as his authority goes, it 
proves that the departure of Israel from Egypt 
under the conduct of Moses, was acknowledged 
in his days* *. 

Tacitus records the same event; and asserts 
that the Jews were expelled Egypt on account 
cf the leprosy. This conjecture, for it is no 
more, is perfectly groundless : because it is well 
known that the leprosy was a common distem¬ 
per among the Egyptians; and for this reason, 
the law of Moses calls the leprosy the disease 
of Egypt, and banishes lepers from the con¬ 
gregation. 

Pliny confirms this assertion, by speaking of 
the leprosy (which he calls Elephantiasis) as 
common to the Egyptians.—They might possi¬ 
bly communicate it to the Israelites: but it is 
improbable that they should expel them for a 
distemper which they themselves imparted to 
them. But 

Trogus Pompeius says, that the magicians 


questionable sources whence their information was frequently drawn, 
blends truth with fable, as may be seen by referring to Josephus. 

* Justin, ut supra, 

z 2 






340 


caused Moses and the Israelites to be expelled, 
because they themselves were afflicted with a kind 
of murrain or leprosy, and were afraid lest it 
should spread throughout the land: which ac¬ 
count probably refers to the plague of boils, 
which was brought upon all Egypt, because 
Pharaoh refused to let the people go*. Still ol> 
serve—whatever reasons these heathen writers 
give for the departure of the Israelites from 
Egypt, they all agree in confirming the fact, 
that the descendants of Abraham were enslaved 
in Egypt, and that they departed out of it un¬ 
der the conduct of Moses. 

3. The Jews could not have asserted these 
miracles, and the deliverance of their fathers, 
supposing no such miracles to have been 
wrought, and no such deliverance to have been 
effected, without exposing themselves, to con¬ 
tempt, and their fiction to detection, among all 
the nations by which they were subdued, after 
the death of Moses and Joshua. Whereas, it 
does not appear that their records were disputed; 
and the writer of the first book of Samuel, (who 
was probably Samuel himself, or some contem¬ 
porary, so far as his history is concerned in it,) 
represents the Philistines as saying, when the 


* Justin, ut supra. See note 3, at the end of this Lecture. 





341 


ark of God came into the camp, “ Woe unto 
“ us ! who shall deliver us out of the hands of 
“ these mighty Gods? These are the Gods that 
“ smote the Egyptians with all the plagues in 
“ the wildernessevidently an imperfect tra¬ 
dition of these facts, as they confound the 
transactions of Egypt, and those of the wilder¬ 
ness, together. Now what purpose could it 
answer, to put into the mouth of the Philistines 
such a declaration, if they did not really utter 
it, except to expose the historian to contempt? 
as, at the time, any one was able to contradict 
it, if it were not true. But it is evident that 
the remembrance of these miracles was not con¬ 
fined to Egypt: and that other lands had heard 
of them, and believed them. 

4. Numenius, a Pythagorean philosopher, 
relates that Jannes and Jambres (as is recorded 
also in the New Tetsament) were chosen by the 
Egyptians, to oppose Moses, and “ to hinder 
<£ the effects of his miracles and prayers, which 
“ had brought down many grievous plagues 
“ upon Egypt, just about the time of the Jews’ 
u banishment from that country.” 

5. The Jews themselves, upon whom Moses 
could not have imposed in the first instance, 
kept in remembrance all the principal facts 
which we have recited this night, by their rites; 
which rites received birth with the events them- 

z 3 


342 



selves, and were kept up till the coming of 
Christ; and some of them, connected insepa¬ 
rably with the departure from Egypt, are cele¬ 
brated to this hour among the Jews: such are 
the passover, and the redemption of the first¬ 
born. 

6. In a most able work, entitled “ Reflec- 
“ tions upon the Books of the Holy Scriptures, 
“ to establish the Truth of the Christian Rcli- 
“ gion,” a custom of the Egyptians is men¬ 
tioned, which continued till after Jesus Christ: 
“ They used to mark with red, their sheep, 
“ their trees, their houses, and their lands, the 
“ day before the passover; as may be seen in 
“ Epiphanius; which custom could proceed 
“ from no other cause, than from the fear of 
“ the Egyptians lest the same plague and mor- 
“ tality should come upon them, which was 
“ inflicted upon their forefathers, and from the 
“ hope of preventing it, by the use of a talis- 
“ man, somewhat resembling the sprinkling of 
“ the blood of the paschal lamb on the doors 
“ of the Israelites, which was the method pre- 
“ scribed to Moses, for the deliverance of his 
“ people from that great plague*.” 


* This work was composed by P. Allix, a French refugee: it was 
published in London in 1688 : this extract is in chap. iii. on thefour 






343 


Lastly, These miracles were confirmed by 
succeeding ones equally important, and equally 
authenticated. Among others — the pillar of 
fire and cloud, which preceded the Israelites, 
and which was so serviceable to them, and so 
injurious to Pharaoh, during their passage 
through the Red Sea, is mentioned by Euse¬ 
bius, who says, “ that the remembrance of it 
“.was preserved, to his time, at Memphis.”— 
Diodorus Siculus also, when he is recording 
the history of the Troglodytes, mentions a tra¬ 
dition, among the native inhabitants of the 
spot, of the division of the Red Sea*. 

Such was the slavery and the deliverance of 
Israel, according to Moses : such are the reasons 
upon which we present this account to you as 
strictly true; and such are the testimonies 
which we have been able to select from other 
ancient historians ; and we think we may ven¬ 
ture to affirm, that God has not left his word 
without a witness. It is easy for infidelity to 
imagine, that such and such things are imposi- 


last books of Moses: the general arguments used above will be found 
in this work, which is preserved in Bishop Watson's Theological 
Tracts. Vol. 1. p. 295. 

* Diod. Sic. lib. iii. p. 122. This tradition is noticed also in 
Bruce’s Travels, Vol. 11. p. 136, 137, new 8vo. edition. Tor the ori¬ 
ginal passage, see note 4, at the end of this Lecture. 

z 4 




tions now: the question is, how were they im¬ 
posed upon mankind at the time? And by what 
means, supposing they were impositions, did 
they obtain credit in the world? Why have they 
not been detected, and overthrown, with other 
impositions? How is it that these fables have 
survived the attacks of time, when so many 
authentic histories have sunk under them? In 
short, it is much easier for scepticism to raise 
objections against revelation, than to remove 
the difficulties which clog it's own system. 
When you consider the distant period in which 
these events took place: the darkness and ido¬ 
latry of the heathen world: the separation of 
the Jews from all other nations: the difficulties 
of a language no longer in use: the mere frag¬ 
ments of heathen historians which have come 
down to us—the wonder is not, that obscurity 
should rest upon the evidences of the Mosaic 
account of things so remote, but that such de¬ 
cisive and numerous testimonies of other writers 
should remain. It becomes scepticism to urge 
it's objections against the Bible with caution, 
and to oppose it with decency. The testimonies 
which we have produced deserve, at least, some 
small regard, and are not to be overthrown by 
ridicule, by witicisms, by the sneer which dis¬ 
torts the countenance, the contempt which swells 
upon the lip, or the scorn which looks from the 


345 


eye, of a deist. We feel no apprehensions in 
submitting this volume to the attacks of infi¬ 
delity. These writings have stood too many 
ages, to excite any alarm in our bosom, from 
assaults such as those which are levelled against 
them in the present day. Let it's adversaries 
produce a better system ; let them invent some¬ 
thing more consolatory to the heart, and more 
adapted to human feelings, and human expec¬ 
tations, living and dying: let them overturn 
the evidences which have resisted the devasta¬ 
tions of so many centuries: let them prove it 
useless and injurious: and then shall our hearts 
begin (( to tremble for the ark of God.”—Till 
then, we adhere, with perfect cheerfulness, to 
a just and acknowledged principle, and calmly 

abide all it's consequences: “ If this counsel, or 

/ 

(f this work, be of men, it will come to nought , v 
f - hut if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it}” 


NOTES. 


Note 1. —The discussion respecting the nature of the miracles 
performed by the magicians, which was declined in page 33 e 2, of the 
preceding Lecture, because it would have prolonged the exercise be¬ 
yond all reasonable bounds, because the opposite opinions of differ¬ 
ent writers might have bewildered the attention of the hearers, and 
"because it would have digressed too far from the object, and would 
have broken the chain, of the narrative, may perhaps not be deemed 
uninteresting as an appendix, and may be allowed the place of a 
note. 

The sentiments of the writers of the Encyclopedia Britan- 
55 ica are thus expressed : 

“ The first magicians of whom w-e read are those who in Egypt 
“ opposed Moses. And we are told, that when Aaron cast down his 
“ rod, and it became a serpent, they also did the like with their 
“ enchantments; 1 for they cast down every man his rod, and they 
i( * became serpents/ This was a phenomenon which, it must be 
u confessed, had a very miraculous appearance ; and yet there seems 
“ to have been nothing in it which might not have been effected by 
" slight of hand. The Egyptians, and perhaps the inhabitants of 
u every country where serpents abound, have the art of depriving 
u them of the power to do mischief, so that they may be handled 
“ without danger. It was easy for the magicians, who were favoured 
u by the court, to pretend that they changed their rods into serpents, 
“ by dexterously substituting one of those animals in place of the 
u rod. In like manner they might pretend to change water into 
u blood, and to produce frogs; for if 'Moses gave in these instances, 
to as we know he did in others, any previous information of the na* 




XOTES. 


347 


* ( ture of the miracles which were to be wrought, the magicians 
t( might easily provide themselves in a quantity of blood and number 
u of frogs sufficient to answer their purpose of deceiving the peo- 
“ pie. Beyond this, however, their power could not go. It stopped 
u where that of all workers in legerdemain must have stopt—at the 
u failure of proper materials to work with. Egypt abounds with 
11 serpents; blood could be easily procured; and without difficulty 

they might have frogs from the river: but when x\Ioses produced 
“ lice from the dust of the ground, the magicians, who had it not in 
u their power to'collect a sufficient quantity of these animals, werq 
u compelled to own this to be an effect of divine agency.” 

Encyclop. Brit. Vol. x. Pt. II. Art. Magic. 

I am neither convinced by this reasoning, nor can admit into my 
belief, this representation. It goes upon the supposition that Moses 
announced his miracles previous to the performance of them, which 
it is admitted he did in some instances, but it cannot be proved that 
he did it in all, neither does it appear from the sacred history, that 
he did it in relation especially to the first miracle. Whatever were 
their skill in legerdemain, it would cost them some trouble to conceal 
the quantity of serpents, frogs, blood, &c. necessary to rival the 
miracles of Moses; and if there was not something like rivalry, and 
that successful rivalry, it was not a principle on which Pharaoh could 
be encouraged; and the circumstance of the magicians performing 
correspondent miracles w r ith those of Moses, appears to be that, in 
the first instance, upon which his heart was hardened. And it i* 
improbable that Moses should not have the power to detect the im¬ 
position, and to expose the cheat, which would certainly have been 
both his duty, and his interest, if the fact were as this hypothesis 
supposes. 

The learned writers of the Ancient Universal History, state 
fairly the divided sentiments ofdifferent commentators on this difficult 
subject, but appear to lean to the opinion that these miracles were 
performed by the agency of evil spirits, and not by legerdemain. 
They thus express their sentiments generally, on the possibility of 
the operations of such spirits. (i That such a commerce is, or at 
i( least formerly was, possible, we cannot but confess; and we con- 
i( ceive it very difficult to account for several passages in Scripture, 
¥i without allowing it to have been practised. However, much the 


348 


N 0 T 1 / 6 , 


u greater part of what has been attributed to this sort of magic, wn* 
u undoubtedly the efTect of imposture and delusion, which have been 
so apparent in several instances, as to tempt one almost to believe 
the same of all the rest/' 

Anc. Univ. Hist. Vol. I. b. i. chap. 3, p. 58 7. 
Upon the miracles in question their ideas are expressed in 
language still more explicit. They state the two following reasons 
as evidences generally produced in favour of the opinion, that these 
miracles were wrought by the agency of evil spirits ; “ First, because 
*■ the scriptures of the Old and New Testament seem ta attribute 
“ some such power to evil spirsts; and secondly, because Moses ex- 
pressed himself in such terms as manifestly shew, that they really 
imitated him in all those wonders they wrought,” They, go on to 
criticise the express phrases which he used in describing the miracles 
of the magicians. He says, that a they cast dozen every man his rod y 
and they became serpents' 3 They assign three reasons why Cod 
suffered them thus to contend against the wonders wrought by Moses, 
and to produce similar phenomena. First, it was necessary that 
these magicians should be suffered to exert the utmost of their 
t( power against Moses, in order to clear him from the imputation 
(i of magic.’’ {i Secondly, it was necessary in order to confirm the 
u faith of the wavering and desponding Israelites, by making them 
u see the difference between Moses acting by the power of God, and 
* the sorcerers by that of Satan. And lastly, in order to preserve 
<c them afterwards from being seduced by any false miracles from the 
*- true worship of God.” 

Anc. Univ. Hist. Vol. II. b. i. chap. 7. p. 562. note E, 
This representation appears to me to accord better with the Mo^ 
Saic history, than the foregoing one. 

Dr. Henry Hunter, with eloquence peculiar to himself, exhi- 
"bits a strong reason for the permission given to the magicians pai> 
tially to imitate the miracles of Moses. “ Reasoning man will ask, 
Why were not impiety and infidelity checked in their very first 
u attempt? Why were the demons of Egypt left in possession of the 
** slightest vestige of power, to oppose, or to imitate the mighty 
H power of God ? Why grant to Pharaoh and his magicians, even 
** the momentary triumph of their incantations? The reason is oh- 
{t vious. Had the Egyptian enchantments been attended with no 


XOTES. 


349 

* success, and produced no effect, infidelity had it’s plea at hand. 
u i Your pretended miracle is mere illusion, an attempt to mislead 
“ * our understanding* by imposing upon our senses. Though we 
u 1 cannot produce this particular effect, perform this particular 
“ ‘ trick, by our art, we can effect wonders equally or much more 
u ‘ astonishing.’ But, by being permitted to succeed in their first 
u effort, and to rival Moses and Aaron so far, in power and repu- 
“ tation, they are insensibly drawn in, to give their sanction to the 
91 sign performed by the Hebrews, for the sake of their own credit; 

and no sooner is it stamped for currency, with their image and 

* superscription, than they and their abettors are confounded, by 
“ seeing the wretched impression of their art effaced, annihilated ; 
“ and no image remains visible but that of the living and.true God. 
** The power which swallowed up the magicians’ rods, could as easiiy 
u have prevented the transmutation; but the confutation is much 
4< more complete by the one than it would have been by the other* 
u Impiety has shut her own mouth, and infidelity stands stripped of 
M her last, and only plea.” 

Hunters Sacred Biog. Vol. Ill * Lect. V. p. 115-117.' 

The truly great and estimable Saurin, with equal ability and suc¬ 
cess, in an admirable and compact chain of reasoning, which, how- 
ever beautiful, cannot, on account of it’s copiousness, be admitted into 
this note, places the subject in four points of view. He tries it, first* 
by u the narrative of Moses:” secondly, by “ the history of era* 
* l chantments transmitted by every agethirdly, by “ metaphysi- 
4i cal speculations;” and fourthly, “ at the tribunal of religion;” 
and in each of these modes of discussion, proves, that we shall find, 
reasons for suspending our judgment on this mysterious subject. 

Consult Suur. Discours , §c. sur la Bible : Tom. I. disc, xlvi.fol. 

To this modest and ingenuous confession, I do most cheerfully 
subscribe. 

After such a declaration, from such a man as Saurin, it would ill 
become me to attempt to determine upon so nice a point. But after 
so large statements of the views of others, and such free comments 
upon them, it may perhaps be expected that I should as frankly 
avow my own opinion. Dr. Gf.ddes, whose criticisms are often 
estimable, yet whose assertions are sometimes announced without 
a pretension to reasoning, and whose conclusions are almost always 


NOTES 


350 

levelled avowedly against the authority of Moses, has never disco¬ 
vered the traits which I have described, more decidedly than in his 
remarks on the present subject. He notices the opinion of leger¬ 
demain, and says, “ the text is expressly against all such interpre- 
“ tations: and we may as well say, that the rod of Moses was not 
“ a real rod, as that the rods of the magicians were not real rods.”— 
He differs, however, from every solution which ever has been, or 
perhaps ever can be, given ; and declares, “ It would be wiser, per- 
“ haps, although not so honest, to say nothing at all; but that is not 
u my manner: I must say what I think ; let others think and speak 
tl as they please.” And what is this opinion, which a professedly 
Christian divine could entertain, and which his fidelity prompted him 
to publish to the world ? “ I am clearly of opinion that neither the 

u magicians of Pharaoh, nor the legislator of the Hebrews, changed 
“ their rods into serpents, any more than the sorceress Circe turned 
u the companions of Ulysses into swine: but that either the Hebrew 
“ historian, whoever he was, invented the whole story; or that, if 
“ ever any such trial of magical skill took place, the deception was 
equal on both sides.” 

Geddcs } Crit . Rem. Vol. I. on'Exod. vii.p. 181, SfC. 

And this is Biblical Criticism ! And this is fair, candid reasoning ! 
And this is learned and liberal research ! What then is to be deemed 
arrogant, unqualified assertion? What can be accounted indecent 
levity, and disrespectful trifling? If he did not blush to write such a 
passage, I should blush to comment upon it, so as to attempt a se¬ 
rious refutation of it! It was not thus that Jesus Christ himself 

• j *. 

spoke, and thought, of Moses, of his writings, and of his authority. 

With no less of integrity, I will candidly avow the opinion which 
I am inclined to form upon a subject concerning which I dare not 
attempt to decide; and without presuming to press my sentiment 
upon any reader, I shall state it as briefly as possible, with the rea¬ 
sons upon which I hold it. Upon the whole, I think, 

1. That both the miracles performed by Moses, and those wrought 
by the magicians , were real. For had not this been the case, would 
not Moses as easily have detected the imposition, as Elijah silenced 
the prophets of Baal? Has the Mosaic account given the slightest 

intimation that they were phantoms? On the contrary, has he not 

* , 


NOTES. :S51 

spoken of them in the same terms, as he speaks of his own ? I am 
also inclined to think, 

2. That the magicians knew not the extent of their own powers. 
In making the experiment, they obeyed the command of Pharaoh: 
they were doubtless prepared to do their best, and to use whatever 
deception the circumstances of the moment might allow. * It is evi¬ 
dent that they tried all the miracles of Moses, and could succeed but 
in a few; a decisive proof that they knew not where their power 
would be stayed, or to what point it would be permitted to extend. 
Perhaps they were as much surprised at their success, as the specta¬ 
tors could be, in the first instance. So convinced were they of di¬ 
vine agency on the suspension of their partial power, that they con¬ 
fessed u this is the finger of God.” But the miracle at which their 
agency ceased, was as easy to be performed, to all appearance, as 
those in which they succeeded ; and the inference appears to be, that 
they were not effected by the power of art. It appears to me, 

3. That they must hare performed these miracles by the permission , 
and under the power , of God. And when this power was withheld 
from them, and continued to Moses, they instantly acknowledged 
the hand of Deitv. 

J 

4. Admitting that both Moses and the magicians wrought their 
respective miracles by the power or permission of God, when their 
capacity to effect them ceased, and that of Moses remained, a de¬ 
cisive evidence was afforded of the truth of his mission. 

5. The phrase, “ they did it by their enchantments , ,p does not 
appear to me to destroy this hypothesis, but only to mean, that they 
used some form and parade , to impress the minds of the spectators 
with veneration of their power and wisdom, and to secure to them¬ 
selves the credit and fame of their success. This parade, however, 
availed them nothing, when their permission to work miracles ex¬ 
pired, and they were compelled to acknowledge the interposition of 
divine power. 

In respect to this opinion, which is submitted with diffidence, the 
reader will form his own conclusion, of it's probability or the con¬ 
trary. I will not avouch that it is original, although if it be bor¬ 
rowed, I cannot recollect the source from whence I drew it, nor of 
course make my acknowledgments. Jt is more than probable that 
I have met with it in the course of reading, and treasured it up 


&OTES 


352 

from it's coincidence with my own views: but if t cotild trace it to 
it’s author, I would not hesitate to give a full reference to his own 
statement. It is common to every man who endeavours to digest 
what he reads, to mingle the thoughts of others with his own : and it 
is not always easy to determine, which of our stores we may claim 
as original j and which we ought to acknowledge as borrowed i nor to 
distinguish between that which we conceive, and that which we only 
remember* 

This whole discussion relates to page 33?, of the preceding Lec¬ 
ture. 

Note 2. Respecting the term of Israel's bondage, the waiters of 
the Ancient Universal History, afford the following ingenious, and, 
as it appears to me, just solution, 

K It is plain, that the four hundred years of Abraham's seed so- 
u journing in a strange land, must be reckoned, not from their 
IJ coming into Egypt, but from the birth of Isaac. For all the time 
u of their sojourning in the land of Canaan, Gerar, or any other, 
u w r as still in a strange land, in w hich they had not a foot of ground, 
“ if we except the cave of Machpelah. As to what is added, that 
u they shall likewise serve, and be ill-treated, it is commonly un- 
derstood to be spoken circumstantially, and might be put in a pa- 
“ renthesis, thus, 1 they shall sojourn and be strangers (and likewise 
u ‘ serve and be oppressed) during the space of four hundred years/ 
as St. Austin, and others, have fully proved. Accordingly we 
<{ find Isaac oppressed in Gerar, his w ells filled up by it's inhabit- 
u ants, and himself forced still farther from them; and Jacob served, 
u and was oppressed by Laban near twenty years, yet neither of 
them laboured under a continual oppression. The Egyptian ser- 
u vitude did not commence till after Joseph and all his brethren 
u were dead; before that ) the Israelites lived in peace and plenty. 
u Allowing, therefore, that Levi was forty-four years of age at hU 
“ first coming into Egypt, which is the most that can be supposed 
“ he must have lived ninety-three years in Egypt, because the text 
“ tells us, that he died in the 137th year of his age. And these 03 
“ years being subtracted from 215, the time of their abode there, 
u there will remain but 122 years of thraldom, even supposing it to 
H have began immediately after his death. The natural sense thero- 



NOTES. 


So 3 


u Tare of this prophecy to Abraham can be only this, that his seed, 
“ from Isaac on, should be strangers in the land, that was not thcir’s, 
u during the space of 400 years, during some part of which they 
u should be oppressed, afflicted, and at length brought under bon- 
“ dage; which term being expired, they should find a happy deli- 
“ verance.’* 

Anc. TJniv. Hist. Vol. II. b. i. chap. 7. note K. 

This computation and extract, refers to page 337, of the preceding 
Lecture. 


Note 3. —In the account which Justin lias given, in his abridg¬ 
ment of Trogus Pompeius, of Moses, and of the deliverance of Israel, 
there is an error, arising from his linking this narrative too closely 
with the history of Joseph, (for he relates this departure in the very 
same chapter in which he speaks of Joseph), and in his supposing 
Moses to be the son of Joseph. This premised, we subjoin his testi¬ 
mony on these facts. 

Filins ejus Moses fuit, quern prater paternal sciential hereditatem, 
etiam forma pulcritudo coinmendabat. Sed iEgyptii, quum scabiem 
et vitiliginem paterentur, responso moniti, eum cum agris, ne pestis 
ad plures serperet, tenninis iEgypti pellunt. 

Just. Hist. lib. xxxvi. cap. ii. 

Moses was his son, whose beauty of person recommended him , no 
less than his inheritance of his father’s science. But the Egyptians , 
because they were afflicted with a scab and leprosy , admonished by an 
oracle , expelled him , with the diseased , from the borders of Egypt , lest 
the malady should spread generally. 

This quotation refers to page 340, of the preceding Lecture. 


Note 4.—Testimony preserved in Diodorus Siculus, respecting 
the division of the Red Sea. Fla^a roTg vrXnaiov KXToiy.Sxiv I vo- 
Qciyoig tt agctbiboTczi Xoyog, Ik n^oyovuv zyusv (pi'KocTTOpzrriv rr t v Qripriv, 
cTE piyaX^g Tivog ytvoyivrig at/xTruTetig syev£$f) T« koXtch •7ToL<; o 

T 09 T 0 £, o t*)v iyuv ru roTra tt^oco^iv, (xtraTreatuTvig rng Sxhccr- 

Tvs l»5 tocvccvAcc (puniang rns t?rl tv (3vQv yz(>ve. ttizKiv 

i^ccKTiov •nrhypr.v u 7 roy.ccraa]n<xoti tov tto^ov tig ryv Trgouurui;- 
aaav rx%iv. Among the Ichthyophagi , the native inhabitants of 
the spot , a tradition is given , xchich is preserved from their ancestors> 

a a 


354 


NOTES. 


that by a great ebb of the waters, the whole bosom of the gulf became 
dry, disclosing its weeds, the sea rolling upon the opposite shore. But 
the bare earth having been rendered visible from the very bottom of the 
abyss, the fide returning in ids strength, restored the passage once 
more to ids former condition. 

Diod. Sic. lib. Hi. p. 122. 

This testimony refers to page 3 J3, of the preoeding Lecture. 


LECTURE IX. 


THE JOURNEY OF ISRAEL IN THE WIL¬ 
DERNESS! THEIR ESTABLISHMENT IN 
CANAAN; AND THE CIRCUMSTANCES 
ATTENDING THESE EVENTS. 


JOSHUA XXIV. 2—13. 

And Joshua said unto all the people, Thus saith 
the Lord God of Israel , Your fathers dzvelt on 
the other side of the flood in old time, even Ter ah, 
the father of Abraham , and the father of Na- 
chor: and they served other Gods. And I took 
your father Abraham from the other side of the 
flood , and led him throughout all the land of 
Canaan, and multiplied his seed , and gave him 
Isaac . And I gave unto Isaac, Jacob and 
Esau: and I gate unto Esau Mount Seir, to 
possess it; but Jacob and his children went 
dozen into Egypt . I sent Moses also and Aaron, 
and I plagued Egypt, according to that which 

a a 2 




356 


I did among them: and afterward I brought 
you out. And I brought your fathers out of 
Egypt: and ye came unto the sea; and the 
Egyptians pursued after your fathers with 
chariots and horsemen unto the Red Sea. And 
when they cried unto the Lordhe put darkness 
- between you and the Egyptians, and brought 
the sea upon them, and covered them ; and your 
eyes have seen what I have done in Egypt: and 
ye dwelt in the wilderness a long season. And 
I brought you into the land of the Amorites, 
which dwelt on the other side Jordan ; and they 
fought with you: and I gave them into your 
hand, that ye might possess their land; and I 
destroyed them from before you. Then Baluk 
the son of Zippo r, king of Moab, arose and 
warred against Israeland sent and called Ba - 
faam the son of Beor to curse you: But I would 
not hearken unto Balaam ; therefore he blessed 
you still: So I delivered you out of his hand. 
And ye went over Jordan, and came unto Jeri¬ 
cho : and the men of Jericho brought against 
you, the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the 
Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Girga - 
shites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites; and I 
delivered them into your hand. And I sent the 
hornet before you, which drove them out from 
before you, even the tzco kings of the Amorites ; 
but not with thy sword, nor with thy bow. And 


357 

I have given you a land for which ye did not 
labour , and cities which ye built not , and ye 
dwell in them ; of the vineyards and olive-yards 
which ye planted not , do ye eat! 

W E are indebted to God himself, for all the 
information which we possess, in relation to 
either his nature or his operations. He furnishes 
the medium through which he is seen in the 
visible creation, in the arrangements of provi¬ 
dence, in the scheme of redemption: and all 
that we are able to comprehend of “ life and 
“ immortality,” is “ brought to light by the 
“ gospel.” The human mind requires a medium 
through which it may discern God, as the eye 
requires a medium through which it may see. 
As that medium to the eye is light, so is the 
medium of the spirit, illumination. It is in 
vain that creation subsists around me, except I 
have an organ of vision. To the blind man it is 
annihilated. The works of God exist, but not 
to him; he is insensible of their beauties, he 
never was permitted to admire their symmetry. 
And it is in vain that we possess an organ of 
vision, unless some medium be furnished through 
which it may operate. I ascend the mountain 
at midnight, and look from its summit. The 
landscape around me is the same as at mid-day, 

a a 3 


353 


and the organ of vision is the same: but light 
the medium through which the eye sees, is want¬ 
ing; and I look for the river, for the meadow, 
for the mansion, for the hill, for all the beau¬ 
ties of the scenery, in vain—I am presented 
with “ an universal blank/’ It is in vain that, 
as an intelligent creature, I am surrounded by 
the works of God, and am furnished with rea¬ 
soning powers, with a capacity formed to con¬ 
template, to examine, and to admire them, un¬ 
less I am furnished also with some medium 
through which they may be seen. Revelation 
is that medium. Were the eye of reason 
quenched in the spirit, the mind would be in 
that state of incapacity to discern the invisible 
God, as is the man born blind to examine his 
works. And were the light of revelation ex¬ 
tinguished, although the man were in full pos¬ 
session of his intellectual powers, he would re¬ 
semble the person on the summit of the moun¬ 
tain at midnight, in vain attempting to explore 
the landscape: he would possess the organ , but 
be destitute of the medium; he would have the 
eye, but not the light. And, for this reason, 
the apostle represents the heathens, as “ feeling 
“ after, if haply they might find God, although 
“ he was not far from every one of them as 
men involved in perfect darkness, although 
possessing the organ of vision, are compelled 


359 

to fed for the object of their pursuit, even when 
that object is at their side, or before their face. 

It will be readily acknowledged, that through 
the medium of revelation alone, we can form 
any conception of things which are “ not seen 
“ as yet.” We can know nothing, we can an¬ 
ticipate nothing of futurity, but as revealed re¬ 
ligion removes the curtain, and unveils a por¬ 
tion of invisible objects. But we will venture 
to assert, that the visible creation itself is not 
beheld to perfection, but through the medium 
of revelation. “ The heavens declare the glory 
“ of God, and the firmament sheweth his 
“ handy work but the man, who has never 
received this divine medium, discerns not that 
glory. “ Day unto day uttereth speech, night 
“ unto night sheweth knowledge “ There is 
“ no speech, nor language, where their voice 
“ is not heard”—but lie understands not their 
testimony. For this reason, many have beheld 
their beauties, and have heard their voice, who 
have not acknowledged the existence of God; 
and, from these alone, none have understood 
his perfections. And if revelation be necessary 
to the developement of creation, how much 
more is it necessary to unfold the mysteries of 
Providence! After all, but little is at present 
discovered. Our curiosity is repressed, and our 
impatience controuled, by the declaration, 

Aa 4 


360 

“ what I do, thou knowest not now, but thou 
“ shalt know hereafter.” Yet we are permitted, 
sometimes, through this medium, to compre¬ 
hend a part of the scheme, that we may form 
some conception of the magnificence of the 
whole. God decyphers a little of his own mys- 
sterious handwriting, to prove his perfect abi¬ 
lity to construe the entire volume. He makes 
known a portion of his purposes, as a pledge, 
that he will, hereafter, fulfill his engagement 
to shew the harmony, the propriecy, and the 
wisdom of all. 

The scripture fact to be illustrated this night, 
is, The journey of Israel in the wilder¬ 
ness ; THEIR ESTABLISHMENT IN CANAAN; 
AND THE CIRCUMSTANCES ATTENDING THESE 
EVENTS. . . 

'This subject will completely confirm the pre¬ 
ceding observations; for we shall see, in some 
instances, the wisdom and harmony of Provi¬ 
dence, while so deep obscurity rests upon others, 
as to compel us to acknowledge, that “ secret 
“ things belong to God.” Our Lecture must 
comprehend more or less of that history com¬ 
prised in the last four hooks of Moses, from the 
fifteenth chapter of Exodus, to the twenty- 
fourth chapter of Joshua inclusive, embracing 
a period of about sixty-four years. We shall 
adopt, in the present instance, our general mode 


361 

of discussion, which is, to consider these events, 
with their concomitant circumstances, as they 
are related in the scriptures: to set before you 
such foreign testimonies as appear calculated to 
elucidate and to confirm the scriptural narra¬ 
tion ; and to attempt an answer to some objec¬ 
tions which scepticism has raised against this 
part of the sacred records. 


I. WE SHALL CONSIDER THESE EVENTS, WITH 
THEIR CONCOMITANT CIRCUMSTANCES, AS 
THEY ARE RELATED IN THE SCRIPTURES. 

Our object, at present, is to produce an epi¬ 
tome of the narrative to be considered, in as 
brief a form as possible ; and for a more com¬ 
plete history of the wanderings and establish¬ 
ment of these singularly preserved people, we 
must refer you to the Bible itself, whose una¬ 
dorned, and faithful record, may be consulted 
at your leisure. 

In tracing the Israelites through all their 
journey, and regarding them as eye-witnesses 
of the wonders performed for their preservation, 
we shall find their character to be precisely 
such as David represented it, when he said, 
u they sang his praises, but they soon forgat 
“ his works!” When they beheld the Egyptians. 


362 


dead upon the sea-shore, under a grateful im- 

r • 

pression of the miraculous deliverance wrought 
on their behalf, they joined in the sublime an¬ 
them of their leader: and if we were to form 
our judgment upon the appearance then pre¬ 
sented of attachment to the God who fought 
for them, we should conclude that his good¬ 
ness could never be obliterated from their re¬ 
membrance, and that their thankfulness could 
never by any dangers be extinguished. Scarcely, 
however, had three days elapsed, before they 
murmured, because the waters of Marah were 
bitter: and no sooner was this evil remedied, 
than their provisions failed, and their com¬ 
plaints were renewed with indecent violence. 
With indulgent kindness, the Lord supplied 
their necessities, by sending, with the dew of 
the morning, a substance bearing some resem¬ 
blance to a small pearl, which answered the 
purpose of bread, and which, not knowing by 
what name to call it, they termed Manna— 
a word implying, “ what is it ?”—in the evening, 
a prodigious flock of quails came up, and co¬ 
vered the camp. This event took place about 
the middle of April, at which period these birds 
are observed to cross the Red Sea in vast num¬ 
bers. The miracle therefore consisted, not so 
much in the immense multitudes which fell in 
the camp of Israel, as in the direction of them 


363 


thither, precisely at the time when the Israelites 
needed them, and on the very evening in which 
God had, by the mouth of Moses, promised to 
send them*. 

Upon receiving this miraculous assistance, 
they continued their journey; and immediately 
afterwards, the failure of water drew from them 
fresh murmurings at the perils of their situation, 
and new reproaches at their inoffensive and 
skilful general. Moses smote a rock, from which 
issued a stream to supply their necessities. We 
must observe once for all, that it is no part of 
our business to enter into a defence of the 
miracles which it may be necessary to notice in 
this course of Lectures, or to answer the ob¬ 
jections which have been raised against them: 
our engagement is simply to state the events as 
they are recorded, as so many matters of fact, 
and to produce such confirmations of them, as 
such, as the fragments of ancient historians 
furnish. It may be proper also to remark, in 
order to preserve distinctness of apprehension 
in pursuing this narrative, that Moses smote 
another rock upon a similar occasion—and that 
these were two distinct events. The first took 


*See Anc, Univ, Hist. Vol. II. b. i. chap. 7. note Q, p, 592, 




364 


place at Rephidim, in their eleventh station*: 
the second in the desert of Sin, in their thirty- 
third station^. The one happened, in the first 
year of their departure from Egypt; the other, 
in the fortieth. The former was smitten by the 
rod of Moses, the instrument of the wonders 
performed in Egypt: the latter, by the rod of 
Aaron, which budded to determine the priest¬ 
hood. The one took place before the erection 
of the tabernacle; the other, after it. This, 
was performed with calmness: that, was smit¬ 
ten in anger; and the conduct of Moses so 
displeased the Lord, that it was the cause of 
his prohibition from entering the land of Ca¬ 
naan;}:. Having made these remarks, we shall 
be in no danger of confounding these two, dis¬ 
tinct events. 

Before they removed from this station, they 
were compelled to fight with the Amalekites. 
Joshua went out to battle at the head of the 
army : Moses ascended the top of the hill, with 
the rod of God in his hand, probably to inter¬ 
cede for the interposition of heaven.—Israel pre¬ 
vailed so long as his hands were elevated: but 


* Exod. xvii. <5. 
f Num. xx. 11. 

X See Anc. Univ. Hist. Vo!. II. chap. 7. note T. p. 596, 597, ‘ 







365 

when through weariness he suffered them to 
drop, victory leaned to the side of Amalek. 
Aaron and Hur supported his arms till the sun 
went down, and Amalek was subdued. How 
lovely is fraternal unity! Even Moses needed 
assistance; and who can pass through life with¬ 
out it? Let us learn, that our burdens are light¬ 
ened, our peace promoted, and our success en¬ 
sured, by mutual kindness, and by mutual at¬ 
tention. And who can read this singularly 
beautiful narration, without being reminded of 
Jesus our Mediator, through whose intercession, 
and the lifting up of his hands, we have free¬ 
dom of access to God now, and shall finally 
be made more than conquerors, over all our 
enemies ? 

This victory opened the way to Sinai, and 
with the most awful emotions we approach the 
sacred mountain! Gathering around it’s foot, 
the tribes of Israel present themselves before 
the eternal Lawgiver. The trumpet has sounded 
loud, and long, to call their leader into the 
thick * darkness: and see, with a palpitating 
heart, he prepares to obey the summons! The 
thunder rolls peal upon peal to announce the 
descent of the Deity. With frequent, and vivid 
flashes, the lightning cleaves the cloud, and 
darts across the dreadful obscurity. Sinai trem¬ 
bles to it’s base, and “ a great and strong wind ’ 


366 


rushes through the desert. Every time the 
trumpet sounds, it increases in loudness: and as 
it sounds long, the signal thrills through every 
heart, and fear blanches every countenance. 
The holy hill is fenced: and the command of 
God is, “ Charge the people, lest they break 
“ through unto the Lord to gaze, and many of 
u them perish.” As with one voice, the whole 
camp rang with their supplications to Moses— 
“ Speak thou with us, and we will hear: but 
u let not God speak with us, lest we die!”— 
Such were the terrors of the former dispensa¬ 
tion, and such the stern command which for¬ 
bade too near an approach to God. But far 
other sounds are heard from yonder mount of 
peace. The frame of nature is indeed con¬ 
vulsed, darkness extends her mantle over the 
sky, the sun withdraws his shining, and the 
clouds weep some drops of pity: but these are 
marks of sympathy, not indications of wrath. 
Yonder sufferer blesses with his dying lips, com¬ 
passion floats in his dim and languid eyes, and 
the language of peace issues from his tongue, 
as it cleaves to the roof of his mouth. “ It is 
“ finished” —rolls on the air, with inexpressi¬ 
ble softness. The heart is melted by this 
scene, but not terrified. Contrition lays her 
gentle hand upon the obdurate spirit. The un¬ 
pitying eye forgets it's ferocity, and learns to 


weep. No command thunders, “ Whosoever 
“ toucheth the mount, shall surely be put to 
“ death:” but a voice like the gale of a sum¬ 
mer's evening whispers, “ Come up hither, for 
“ yet there is room!” 

In receiving the law from the hand of heaven, 
Moses was forty days absent on the mount. A 
portion of this time, the Israelites patiently 
waited: but at length, forgetting the recent 
terrors with which the near approach of the 
Deity had filled their bosoms, and impatient of 
delay, they compelled Aaron, by their impor¬ 
tunity and violence, to form a golden calf; and 
to this idol they bowed down as unto their God. 
—We conceive that they borrowed this image 
from the Egyptian mythology : for without it, 
a calf, one should suppose, would have been 
the last symbol they would have chosen, as a 
representation of the Deity. As the term “calf” 
is by no means completely definite, it is highly 
probable, that it was an exact resemblance of 
one of the Egyptian idols. The Egyptian Isis 
had the face of a calf, with the form of a man 
from the neck downwards. The Egyptian Apis 
was altogether the similitude of a calf. There 
has been one objection raised against this posi¬ 
tion ; which is, that the idolatry of Israel was 
anterior to the worship of these idols, or ot 
animal resemblances in Egypt: but we think 


368 


this assertion hard to be proved. Idols, and 
image worship, were in existence in those days, 
or the Israelites had not dreamt of them ; and 
Egypt, the mother of hieroglyphics, would 
hardly be the last to embrace the system of 
idolatry. Admitting our position, which will 
at once account for the symbol of the Deity 
chosen by the Israelites, we are furnished with 
further evidences of the facts—that they ac¬ 
tually resided in Egypt, from a knowledge of 
their customs—and that they had recently de¬ 
parted thence, from the attachment, and pre¬ 
ference, shewn to the objects of their worship. 

From this event, follow a succession of re¬ 
bellions in various shapes, and appointments of 
divers ceremonies. The next point of import¬ 
ance upon which we fix, is the sending of 
twelve men as spies to view the promised land. 
Ten of these messengers brought back an evil 
report; and Joshua, and Caleb, alone attempt¬ 
ed, by a just and manly relation, to encourage 
the hearts, and to strengthen the hands, of the 
people. Such, however, was their discontent, 
that they resolved to return to their bondage in 
Egypt; and were actually consulting whom to 
choose as a leader, when the uproar was sup¬ 
pressed, by the appearance of the glory of the 
Lord resting upon the tabernacle. The punish¬ 
ment inflicted upon their unbelief and folly, was 


369 

justly severe: all above twenty years of age 
were excluded the land, Joshua and Caleb ex¬ 
cepted : they were sentenced to forty years 
wandering in the wilderness till that generation 
should fall into the dust; and the ten spies, 
who brought the false report, were struck with 
instantaneous death. A great number of the 
people afterwards fell in the ill-timed battle of 
the Amalekites, which God had expressly pro¬ 
hibited. 

To this affecting circumstance succeeded the 
rebellion of Korah, and the confirmation of 
Aarons priesthood—the strife at Meribah—the 
setting up of the brazen serpent, that striking- 
type of Christ—the defeat of Sihon and Og— 
the beautiful and eloquent prophecies of Balaam 
—the idolatry of Israel with the Moabites, and 
their punishment, with the slaughter of Ba¬ 
laam, and of the five kings of Midian. This 
conducts us to the death of Moses. After 
having numbered the people, ordered the dis¬ 
tribution of the promised land, and appointed 
Joshua his successor, in the sight of all Israel, 
he ascended the mountain, which he descended 
no more. He saw the promised land, he re¬ 
viewed his journey in the wilderness, and he 
resigned his spirit “ to God who gave it.” 

We cannot take leave of Moses, without 
paying one small tribute of respect to his cha- 

n b 


370 

racter and to his conduct. From the sacred 
records, we learn that he was beautiful in his 
person, and amiable in his disposition. He re¬ 
ceived a polished education, and on all occa¬ 
sions evinced true greatness of mind. Consi¬ 
der him as a prophet or as a general, as a shep¬ 
herd or as a monarch, as a husband or as a fa¬ 
ther, as man or as a saint, he is equally estima¬ 
ble, and equally interesting. A greater than 
Moses did not appear upon the earth, till “ the 
“ Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us; 
fC and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the 
“ only-begotten of the Father, full of grace and 
“ truth.” His death, as well as his life, breathes 
instruction. It shews us the danger of con¬ 
tending with God, and the bitterness of dis¬ 
appointment, when an object ardently desired 
is seen, but not permitted to be enjoyed. It 
is an emblem of the death of a Christian, who, 
in his last moments, in the same way, casts his 
eyes over the past and the future. In one word, 
living and dying, he was a most inestimable 
character: and well did he merit the tears, 
which “ the many thousands of Israel” shed to 
his memory. 

- The tents of Israel were pitched at Shittim, 
during the days of mourning for Moses : and, 
encamped on the verge of Jordan, the people 
expected the divine signal for passing that* 


river*. Nor could any tiling less than a divine 
command have encouraged Joshua and the Is- 
raelites to proceed. All circumstances consi¬ 
dered, we think it would have been a greater 
miracle, had they encountered the dangers 
which they were conscious were before them, 
wit flout a divine communication, than the ad¬ 
mission of the fact asserted in the scriptures, 
that they knew themselves acting under the au¬ 
thority and support of a divine commission, 
supposes. Joshua was ninety-three years of 
age. He was indeed at the head of six hun¬ 
dred thousand fighting men: hut his army was 
also encumbered with women, children, ser¬ 
vants, cattle, and all the necessaries for tra¬ 
velling. The nations who opposed him were 
numerous, warlike, of gigantic stature and 
strength: their towns fortified by nature, and 
by art: their forces concentrated, and their 
interests united by alliances : this union was 
strengthened by alarm : they had every thing 
to lose, and with the most determined and 
steady courage, they resolved to repel the in 
vaders. 

After the spies sent by Joshua to inspect the 


* For the succeeding statements, see the book of Joshua. 
Anc. Univ. Hist, Vol, III, b. i. chap. 7, 


B b 2 


See also 




372 

country bad returned in peace, preparations 
were made for passing the river Jordan. This 
hazardous undertaking, which was to cast the 
die, and to commence the conflict with the Ca- 
naanites, was arranged under the immediate di¬ 
rection of Heaven. The people sanctified them¬ 
selves, and the priests bearing the ark of God 
opened the procession. Each tribe observed 
the same order as they had done in their 
marches. The enterprise commenced on a day 
which answers to the thirtieth of our April, the 
day on which the paschal lamb was selected 
and separated. At this time of the year, Jordan 
usually overflowed it's banks, from the melting 
of the snows of Lebanon, and of other neigh¬ 
bouring mountains.—But so soon as the feet of 
the priests, who bare the ark, touched the waves 
of this rapid river, God caused the stream to 
roll back: and it stood in heaps far beyond the 
city of Adam, while the flood below continuing 
it’s course to the Dead Sea, opened a passage 
of about sixteen or eighteen miles in breadth, 
for the armies of Israel, till they had passed 
over. The priests, who had continued in the 
bed of the river till the whole army had crossed, 
now remained while twelve stones were set up 
which might be seen on either shore when the 
waters were abated, and until twelve stones, 
taken out of the channel, were piled on the 


373 

other side of the river. They then ascended to 
the opposite shore, and Jordan, with it’s wonted 
impetuosity, rolled it’s stream towards the Dead 
Sea. 

After this miraculous passage, the passover 
was celebrated for the third time. Jericho was 
soon after taken in an extraordinary manner; 
and the account of it's capture, is abundantly 
strengthened, by the fulfilment of a most re^ 
markable prophecy uttered at the time. Joshua 
predicted, when it was rased to the ground, 
that whosoever should attempt to rebuild it, 
should “ lay the foundations thereof in his 
“ firstborn, and set up the gates thereof in his 
“ youngest son.”-—This curse was literally ful¬ 
filled above five hundred and fifty years after it 
was denounced. Hiel, the Bethelite, attempted 
to rebuild it: but “ he laid the foundation 
“ thereof in Abiran, his firstborn, and set up the 
“ gates thereof in his youngest son Segub,” who 
both died in consequence of the trespass of their 
father. After the death of Achan, the conquest 
of the land was effected in about six years. 

In the battle against the five kings who fought 
against Gibeon, two miracles are recorded : the 
assistance afforded the Israelites by a fall of 
hailstones, and the standing still of the sun and 
moon at the command of Joshua. For the first 
of these, we observe that it is now no uncom- 

nb 3 


374 


mon thing to read of a storm literally of stones, 
which probably was the case in this tempest 
of Joshua: and these phenomena have been 
attributed to earthquakes, eruptions, and various 
causes. The miracle then, consists in the timing 
of this awful storm, and the direction of it’s 
fury against the enemies of Israel. For the 
standing still of the sun and moon, we con¬ 
ceive that this miracle does not militate against 
the present system of astronomy, since the sus¬ 
pension of the earth’s motion would produce 
the same appearances, and not only the sun and 
moon, but all the planets, would necessarily 
seem to be stationary. As this last was a mira¬ 
cle, conspicuous not merely to the enemies with 
whom they fought, but to all nations, it must 
have been to the Canaanites, a most afflictive 
demonstration, that the hand of God was against 
them, and with their enemies; and thus is the 
design, the propriety, and the necessity, of this 
miracle, at once demonstrated. Thus by little 
and little the whole land was subdued, till the 
Israelites obtained complete possession; and be¬ 
fore he closed his eyes in death, Joshua divided 
the whole country among the several tribes, and 
beheld the final accomplishment of the promise, 
which God had made, so many centuries before, 
to Abraham. Having brought into as narrow 


375 

compass as possible the statement of these facts 
according to the scriptures, 


II. WE SHALL SET BEFORE YOU SUCH FOREIGN 
TESTIMONIES AS APPEAR TO US CALCULATED 
TO ELUCIDATE AND TO CONFIRM THIS 
ACCOUNT. 

We shall produce, 

1. Positive evidence from the most 

i 

ancient writers, either relative to particular 
facts, or to the circumstances attending them. 
The birth of Moses, his deliverance from the 
water, and his receiving the moral law, is se¬ 
lected by Eusebius out of Aristobulus. 
The ancient writer of the Orphic verses, after 
asserting that only one God is to be worship* 
ped as the Creator and Governor-of the world, 
adds, “ So was it said of old: so he commands, 
“ who was born of water, and who received of 
(i God the two great tables of the moral law.” 
Strabo applauds Moses for reproving the error 
of the Egyptians in likening the Deity to 
beasts. Juvenal mentions the adherence 
of the Jews to their law “ given by Moses.” 
As a writer he is spoken of by Diodorus 
Siculus, Pliny, and Tacitus; and they re¬ 
gard his history with great respect. We have 

b b 4 


. 376 

already seen that Longinus quotes the opening 
of Genesis, as an instance of the true sublime- 
Chalcidius borrowed many things from the 
writings of Moses, whom he calls “ the wisest 
“ of men, enlivened not by human eloquence, 
“ but by divine inspiration.” Hermippas, in 
his life of Pythagoras, quoted by Josephus 
against Apion, says, that “ he took many 
“ things into his own philosophy from the 
“ Jewish laws.” Ancient writers in general 
conspire to speak highly of the piety of the 
Jews, so long as they adhered to the law. These 
testimonies furnish a most decisive evidence, 
both of the antiquity of the Mosaic writings, 
and of the estimation in which his history was 
held*. The Egyptians imitated the Urim and 
Thummim, mentioned in the ceremonial laws: 
for Diodorus says, that the chief justice “ car- 
“ lies on his neck an image of precious stones, 
<c suspended on a golden chain.” The heathen 
Poets assert that Jupiter overwhelmed the ene¬ 
mies of Hercules in Arim, which is precisely 
the country where Joshua fought with the 
children of Anak, by “ a tempest of stones.” 
Moreover it appears credible that the fables cur- 


* Grotius de Ver. Relig. Christ, § 16. See also note 1, at the end 
of this Lecture. 






377 

rent in the heathen world, of the protraction 
of the day and of the night, attributed to their 
deities, as their pleasure, or their convenience 
required, originated in the fact of the miracle 
wrought by Joshua, in arresting the light of 
the sun and moon. 

The establishment of the Jews in Canaan, as 
a fact, cannot be questioned. They long made 
it the seat of empire. Scepticism itself admits 
the existence of the nations which preceded 
Israel: but objects to the conduct of Joshua in 
dispossessing them of their territories. 

The testimonies which we have adduced, con¬ 
firm the Mosaic history as a whole, rather than 
detached parts of it; and surely when it is con¬ 
sidered, as it has been clearly proved by Jose¬ 
phus on the testimony of Manetho*, that the 
settlement of the Jews in Canaan, was three 
hundred and ninety-three years before Danaus 
came to Argos, whom the Grecians acknowledge 
their most ancient prince, and from whom they 
are frequently named; and that it preceded the 
transactions of Troy, celebrated by their most 
ancient poet, a thousand years ; particular con¬ 
firmations of such striking events as the deluge, 
and a general acquiescence with the scripture 


* See note 2, at the end of this Lecture. 





378 

record, is all that ought to be, and all that can 
be, expected from heathen writers. They could 
not know any thing of these circumstances but 
by tradition. Orpheus himself lived but one 
thousand years before Christ; IIesiod, nine 
hundred; Homer, eight hundred and fifty. 
Orpheus himself, therefore, was only contem¬ 
porary with Rehoboam, the son of Solomon. 
The settlement in Canaan took place one thou¬ 
sand four hundred and twenty-seven years be* 
fore the birth of our Lord: that is, four hun¬ 
dred and twenty-seven years before Hesiod; 
and five hundred and seventy-seven years before 
the celebrated Homer. Is it a subject for won* 
der that obscurity should rest upon facts so 
ancient? We appeal to the unprejudiced—is it 
not rather extraordinary, that facts so remote 
should have evidences so strong and decisive? 
We wish to produce, 

2. Considerations which may be deem^ 
Ed circumstantial evidences. 

When the law was given at Sinai, it was 
given publicly. Nothing was done in secret. 
Peculiar glory, splendour, and notoriety, at¬ 
tended it’s dispensation. It was not a meeting 
of the chiefs of the nation, who reported to the 
people that such an appearance had been mani¬ 
fested to them. No! the whole camp witnessed 
the magnificent scene. They were not asleep 


379 

when God descended in terrible majesty. They 
were awake to every transaction, when they 
prostrated shemselves on the ground, and cried, 
“ Let not God speak to us, lest we die.” Moses 
could not impose on their senses. Is it proba¬ 
ble, had not the Israelites actually seen “ this 
<( great sight,” and had they not been com¬ 
pletely convinced that Moses was forty days 
and forty nights upon Mount Sinai, and that 
he really did receive the law from the hand of 
God,—is it probable that they would have sub¬ 
mitted to the moral, and especially to the cere¬ 
monial laws, many of which were opposite both 
to their opinions, and to their ancient cus¬ 
toms? The adherence of the Jews to their law 
in every age, is an incontestable proof that they 
believe the fact of the manner in which it was 
given ; and how was it possible for Moses to 
deceive their fathers, in those things of which 
they were eye and ear-witnesses? We say no¬ 
thing respecting the morality, the equity, and 
the perfection of the moral law, which demon¬ 
strates that God alone could be it's author. 
Compared with it, ail the admired codes of the 
wisest legislators of antiquity are barbarous. 
We wave this, and simply ask a question, which 
we challenge infidelity to answer, it it be able, 
A man may pretend to a revelation, without 
having it, as did Mahomet: but the case before 


s 


380 


us is widely different. Here is no secresy, or 
concealment; here are no visions or dreams. 
The cloud, the fire, the trumpet, the darkness, 
were seen and heard by all the camp of Israel. 
They were prepared for the event by purifica¬ 
tion. Moses ascended in their presence, and 
descended before them. They saw his fears: 
they saw the tables of the law taken up, plain, 
ungraven stone: they saw them when they 
were brought down, filled. Events were re¬ 
corded at the moment in which they took place: 
his history was in the hands of his contempo¬ 
raries; and his law was publicly read at stated 
periods. We ask, how was it possible for him 
to impose, in the first instance, upon the Jews? 
We are reduced to this alternative. Either we 
must give up the history of Moses (corroborated 
as it is by foreign testimonies) altogether : we 
must believe his book a forgery from first to 

O 4/ 

last: we must even deny the existence of the 
Jewish nation at that period : or we must admit 
his miracles as matters of fact; since he could 
no more impose the manner of the giving of the 
law* than the lazv itself, upon the Jews. Admit 
that the law was given, and that he is the au¬ 
thor of these books, and you must, to be con¬ 
sistent, admit all it's circumstances. 

Respecting the manna, the pillar of cloud 
and of fire, and other miraculous circumstances 


381 


attending their journey, was it possible to have 
imposed the belief of these tilings upon the 
progenitors of the Jews (through whose hands 
these writings were transmitted from generation 
to generation) unless they really existed ? Was 
it possible to persuade the multitude, that they 
were every day fed from heaven, for the space 
of forty years, had not this actually been the 
case? And without a miraculous supply, how 
could Moses march such an army, through such 
a country, except he possessed an enormous 
magazine of provisions ? And from what sources 
could he derive it? 

Whence arose the various customs of the 
Jews perpetuated to the present hour, if they 
did not originate in facts such as he records? 
What could give rise to the passover? What 
could have suggested the various ceremonies of 
the Jewish worship? Was not the brazen ser¬ 
pent in existence in the days of Ilezekiah ? What 
lias preserved these singular institutions in every 
age, and in every country ? They must have 
had some origin. We admire two things in the 
divine government: the one—the perpetuation, 
of miracles till after the coming of Christ, so 
that every fresh miracle conlirmed former ones: 
the other—the continuation of the rites of the 
Jews down to the present hour. Were it not 
from the circumstance of the rejection of the 


382 


Saviour by the Jews, and their consequent ob¬ 
stinate adherence to their ceremonial law, per¬ 
haps it would be denied that such rites ever ex¬ 
isted. In this we cannot but perceive the wis¬ 
dom of Providence, amid all it's obscurity. 
Could a whole nation, from first to last, be 
deceived? Impossible! I never see a Jew, with¬ 
out feeling* conviction of the truth of divine 
revelation. 

The reservation of some of the Canaanites 
for several ages, and the total extermination of 
them having never been effected, was a decisive 
evidence to succeeding generations, who were 
not eve-witnesses of the entrance of their fathers 
into Canaan, both of the existence, and of the 
manners, of it’s former inhabitants; and, by 
consequence, a confirmation of all the records 
put into their hands. This doubtless was one 
important reason why they were not all de¬ 
stroyed. 

Once again—the reference which all the 
writings of Moses had to the Messiah, forms a 
part of that grand and unbroken chain, which 
runs through the whole volume of scripture, 
from first to last, and which renders it impossi¬ 
ble to take away any part, without destroying 
the beauty, and affecting the existence, of all. 



ill. WE SHALL NOTICE THE OBJECTIONS WHICH 

SCEPTICISM HAS RAISED AGAINST THIS PART 

OF THE SACRED WRITINGS. 

1. They object to the qonduct of the 
Israelites as immoral. They have com¬ 
pared the settlement of the Jews in Canaan, 
to the cruelty of the Spaniards at Mexico, and 
have asserted, that the one had as little right as 
the other, to dispossess the original inhabit¬ 
ants of these respective places, of their terri¬ 
tories. Before the writings of Moses are con¬ 
demned altogether on these plausible pretences, 
we shall interpose a series of propositions; drawn 
up by a most able hand* which we think are 
unanswerable, but upon which you will form 
your own conclusions. They are as follows : 
“ That the Almighty has a sovereign right over 
“ the lives and fortunes of his creatures : That 
“ the iniquity of nations, may become such as 
“ to justify him in destroying those nations: 
“ That he is free to choose the instruments by 
“ which he will effect such destruction: That there 
“ is not more injustice, or cruelty, in effecting it 


* Bishop Horne. 



584 


“ by the sword, than by famine, pestilence, 
“ whirlwind, deluge, and earthquake: That 
“ the circumstance of a divine commission en- 
“ tirely alters the state of the case, and dis- 
“ tinguishes the Israelites from the Spaniards, 
“ or any other plunderers, as much as a war- 
“ rant from the> magistrate distinguishes the 
“ executioner from the murderer: That men 
“ may be assured of God's giving such a com- 
u mission : And there is incontestable evidence 
“ upon record, and from facts, that the Israel- 
“ ites were thus assured.” We think it will re¬ 
quire no small degree of skill, to overturn 
propositions so reasonable, and so admirably 
dependant upon each other. 

2. They object to it as cruel : on ac¬ 
count of the slaughter of children. This is an 
argument produced on every occasion in which 
the Bible records human desolation. We have 
again to remind them, that, on this principle, 
they ought to quarrel with famine, and earth¬ 
quakes, and all the scourges of nature; and 
not only so, but with the natural stroke of 
death, by which thousands of children are de¬ 
stroyed every day. In a word, if the security 
and tranquillity of infants be the reasonable 
result of their freedom from actual offence, we 
must arrive at this point, that they ought in 
justice to be delivered from the infliction of all 


V 


$85 

evil; and thus must we either deny the expe¬ 
rience of every day, which exhibits children 
suffering pains and sorrows incessantly, or ha¬ 
bitually dispute the justice, and the goodness, 
of God, in the government of the world. 

3. They object to it as improper. They 
assert, that God should not use instruments, 
who might be hardened by the execution of 
their commission. In every point of view the 
case was different with the Jews. It was ?iot 
effected, said the text justly, by their “ own 
“ sword,” and by their “ own bowbut by the 
“ hornet,” and by a series of miracles, which 
plainly demonstrated the interposition of Provi¬ 
dence. Moreover, the execution of their com¬ 
mission, was not calculated to harden their 
hearts against any thing but sin; and was de¬ 
signed as an awful lesson of caution to them¬ 
selves : since they were expressly assured, that 
the same vices would draw upon them the same 
displeasure, expose them inevitably to the same 
calamities, and drown them in the same per* 
dition. 

The history which has passed under review, 
affords a striking exemplification of divine fide¬ 
lity and purity, and of the harmony and suc¬ 
cess of all the designs of God. Whatever is 
difficult and obscure, this is plain and luminous: 
whatever in Providence is calculated to impress 


386 

awe and terror, this excites only the emotions 
of admiration and delight. 

It is pleasant to observe, amid the caprices, 
and the fluctuations, of human purposes, the 
undivided, and unshaken plans of Jehovah, 
hastening with undeviating perseverance to 
their completion. Man commences operations 
to-day, which he abandons to-morrow. Either 
the difficulties that present themselves are in¬ 
surmountable, or he is weary of the length of 
Way which is between him and the attainment 

4/ 

of his wishes, or some new object is started, or 
he is interrupted by death: from some cause or 
other, it is seldom that his purpose is accom¬ 
plished. Ik began to build, but either he had 
not counted the cost, or not well chosen the 
ground, or through lack of materials, or work¬ 
men, the tools fell from his hand, and the un¬ 
finished edifice stands a lasting monument of 
the folly, the poverty, or the caprice, of the 
architect. It is not so with the Deity. No 
difficulty can impede his designs : he commands, 
and the mountain becomes a plain. No length 
of time can frustrate his wishes: for time is 
swallowed up before him. That which his will 
purposes, is, in his estimation, accomplished: 
for, to him, the distance between the plan and 
it's execution, is annihilated. A thousand 
“ years with the Lord are as one day”—“ a 


38 ? 

“ thousand ages, as yesterday when it is past.” 
No new object can distract his attention, and 
lead him aside from his original purpose: for 
“ he is of one mind, and who can turn him?” 
and “ he seeth the end from the beginning.” 
Death cannot interrupt his operations: for with 
him is “ neither beginning of days, nor end of 
<c life.” He counts the cost, and lays the foun¬ 
dation of the edifice, deep and lasting: he fur¬ 
nishes materials, and raises up workmen to pro¬ 
secute his designs; and although these “ can- 
“ not continue by reason of death,” as they 
drop the tools, he puts them into the hands of 
others ! One strikes a blow or two with the 
hammer, and drives a nail: another spreads the 
mortar, places “ one stone upon another,” leaves 
it to cement, and falls asleep: a third pursues 
the process; and amid the removal of the la¬ 
bourers, the building of God continues to rise, 
till a the topstone is brought forth with shout- 
u ing.” 

It is pleasan t to see the Deity superintending the 
deliberations of those who acknowledge him not, 
and from their chaos causing a beautiful creation 
to spring to light. In the midst of senates, of privy 
councils, and of camps, the invisible God pre¬ 
sides. The conqueror knows him not, and the 
assembly think not of him, who is in the midst 
of them. Short-sighted and bewildered in their 

c c 2 


388 


plans, their schemes are dictated by the exi¬ 
gencies of the moment: but he is making them 
the instruments of fulfilling his pleasure. They 
wish to shake the power of this and that em¬ 
pire, to check the insolent rapacity of an un¬ 
principled tyrant, to extend their own political 
interests, or to add such a track of country, and 
such a distant possession, to their own domi¬ 
nion. They form alliances, and project enter¬ 
prises : he sanctions, or crushes, these, as he 
sees fit—still pursuing his own eternal purposes. 

It is pleasant to see the gradual develope- 
ment of his plans, and the regular succession 
of events, which accomplish them. He is “ a 
“ God of order, and not of confusion.” No¬ 
thing is premature, nothing is retarded, no¬ 
thing is out of place. All is concord, co-oper¬ 
ation, utility, beauty, stability. 

It will be pleasant hereafter to see the accom¬ 
plishment of the whole scheme. So transient 
is our present existence, that a very small por¬ 
tion of the divine plans can fall within it's nar¬ 
row compass. In a few instances, like the pre¬ 
sent, the records of truth enable us to form some 
conception of the operations of God, and the 
history is the counterpart of the prediction. But 
when we shall have subdued our enemies, and 
completed our wanderings in the wilderness: 
when we shall have passed Jordan, and taken 


' 389 

possession of our heavenly Canaan : we shall 
compare the prediction, the event, and it’s con¬ 
sequences together: and with Abraham, Isaac, 
and Jacob, raise the shout of triumph in the 
kingdom of God! 


CCS 


NOTES, 



Note 1 .— Grotius has distinctly enumerated the testimonies from 
ancient writers, which we mentioned generally: to which he has 
added others which we did not produce. He says, respecting the Or¬ 
phic verses, “ the great Scaliger has mended the passage, by chang- 
ing a letter; and instead of reading the word C^eyevyi<;, as Eusebius, 
“ in his Praep. Evan. lib. xiii. cap. 12. quotes it from Aristobulus, 
“ he bids us read it v^oyevnC — born of the water. His quotation 
from Strabo is not inserted here, because, while his testimony to the 
great character of Moses is decisive, he has mingled the fable of 
tradition so entirely with his evidence, that the passage would not 
be worthy the room it would occupy in this note. It is in his xvi. 
book. There is a remarkable testimony in Diodorus Siculus, in the 
first book of his history, comprised in a single sentence. He had 
been speaking of those who assert that the Gods were the authors of 
their laws—and adds, sra^a. lySaiQK Je M uanv rov I aw l'my.a.7\iig.Evov 
©eov —As Moses, zvho, among the Jews, called God , Taw ( Iao). Gro¬ 
tius quotes this passage also, and says, that by Taw (I“°) mn* 
(Jehovah) is intended ; and that the name was so pronounced, “ by 
the oracles, in the Orphic verses, by the Basilidian heretics, and 
other Gnosticsalso, with little variation, “ by the Tyrians." 
These quotations, with his important remarks, are to be found in 
his Truth of the Christian Religion : book i. sect. 16, notes 83—101. 

Note 2.—Testimony of Josephus, to the early settlement of the 
Jews in Canaan. Tatira /aetcc o Maj'sSwj'* 5 e iJlivlx tuv eigy\- 

gilvuv Wuv tS , or* oi xaXy^Em ^ete£ 0 » 

Ss 7r^oyovoi, xai evtvn xovra xai rgiftHocrion; 7rg6c$ev ireaiv, lx 




NOTES. 


I 


391 


AlyvTriu a.TTxWocyzv rt$, tyjv Tuvryv cnruniriaccv, n A uvctov e!{ 

Agyot; oc.<pr.izo-§ca' y.ca roi rSrov u^ctioTatTov A^ys io» 

Thus far Mauctho. Therefore estimating the time from the beginning 
cf those years, (alluding to some foregoing calculations according to 
Manetho’s history) it will appear, that our ancestors, whom they call 
shepherds, migrated from Egypt, and inhabited this country, 393 
years before Danaus came to Argos, which is nevertheless celebrated 
by the Greeks for antiquity. Josephus adds, “ that two things are 
u evident from Manetho’s account: first, that the Jews came from 
“ another place to Egypt: secondly, that they left them again, and 
“ that nearly a thousand years before the Trojan war.” Lowih says, 
that this calculation is double the true distance of time between these 
events. However, the establishment of the Jews in Canaan, is much 
earlier than any Grecian writer, or history. See Josephus, contra 
Appion. Tom, II. lib. i. p. 1339. Hudsoni edit. 


392 


LECTURE X. 

THE GOVERNMENT OE THE JEWS- 

INCLUDING THE THEOCRACY AND 
MONARCHY, TO THE BUILDING OF SO* 
lomon's TEMPLE: WITH a CONFIRMA¬ 
TION OF SOME SUBORDINATE FACTS. 


1. sam. viii. 6 —10 & 19, 20. 

But the thing displeased Samuel , when they said y 
give us a King to judge us: and Samuel prayed 
unto the Lord; And the Lord said unto Samuel , 
Hearken unto the voice of the people in all that 
they say unto thee: for they have not rejected 
thee , but they have rejected Me , that L should 
not reign over them . According to all the zvorks 
which they have done since the day that I brought 
them up out of Egypt , even unto this day , zvhere¬ 
with they have forsaken me, and served other 
gods ; so do they also unto thee . Now therefore 




393 

hearken unto their voice: howbeit, yet protest 
solemnly unto them, and shew them the manner 
of the King that shall reign over them. And 
Samuel told all the words of the Lord unto the 
people, that asked of him a king. - Never¬ 

theless, the people refused to obey the voice of 
Samuel; and they said, Nay, but we will have 
a king over us: That we also may be like all the 
nations, and that our king may judge us, and 
go out before as, andfght our battles. 

acts vii. 44—48. 

Our Fathers had the Tabernacle of witness in the 
•wilderness, as he had appointed, speaking unto 
Moses, that he should make it according to the 
fashion that he had seen. Which also our fa¬ 
thers that came after, brought in with Jesus 
into the possession of the Gentiles, whom God 
drove out before the face of our fathers, unto 
the days of David. Who found favour before 
God, and desired to find a tabernacle for the 
God of Jacob. But Solomon built him an house. 
Howbeit the Most High dwelleth not in temples 
made with hands, 

heb. xi. 32—34* 

And what shall I more say? for the time would 
fail me to tell of Gedeon, and of Barak, and of 



394 

Sampson, and of Jeptkee, of' David also , and 
Samuel, and of the prophets. Who through 
faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, 
obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, 
quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge 
of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, 
waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the ar- 
mies of the aliens. 


WII ATE YE R be the views of man respect¬ 
ing the veracity of the scriptures, it must be 
admitted that the subjects of which they treat, 
and upon which they promise elucidation, arc 
to the last degree interesting and important. If 
there be a God, it is of the first consequence, 
that we should understand our relation to him, 
the duties which we owe him, and the service 
which he requires. The question whether reve¬ 
lation has given us just views on this subject, 
cannot be solved, except it be in the first in¬ 
stance seriously received, and cautiously exa¬ 
mined ; and professing to give us decisive in¬ 
formation upon these points, it demands respect, 
it should awaken interest, it should promote en¬ 
quiry, and the investigation of it’s claims, ought 
to be conducted under the influence of a sincere 

* » f 

desire to serve the cause of truth. As it is pro¬ 
fessedly the production of men of real genius., 
and displays eloquence and beauty which extort 


395 

unwilling praise from the lips of it's adversaries, 
it ought not to be treated either with indiffer¬ 
ence or with contempt. The wisdom mani¬ 
fested, and the good proposed in it, are vastly 
above ridicule. While it professes to be the 
word of God, and till the contrary be incon¬ 
testably proved, it should be approached with 
respect; and as the subjects it proposes are in¬ 
separably connected with our peace, it should 
be examined with care. It is exceedingly ab-, 
surd to prejudge a cause which we have not 
tried, and to condemn a book which we have 
not read. And yet it is more than probable 
that the larger number of the opponents of 
revelation, have not taken the trouble to ex¬ 
amine it’s contents, much less to weigh it's evi¬ 
dences. What then are we to think of a man 
who could sit down to refute a book, which 
from his own confession he had not read for 
years; and which, if we may form a judgment 
upon his injurious and profane production, he 
had never consulted with attention? When he 
had occasion to refer to it's compositions, not 
possessing a Bible of his own, and not willing 
to re-examine the production which he so viru¬ 
lently, and on .such slender ground, condemned) 
he was compelled to substitute a poetical para¬ 
phrase for the simple language of the scriptures! 
Js this candour? Is this liberality? Is this fair 


and impartial criticism? If it be, may Infidelity 
ever enjoy the triumph of possessing it: we nei¬ 
ther envv, nor desire to share such honours: we 
are satisfied that the glory shall be all their 
own. If we would find out truth, the preten¬ 
sions of this book must be fairly examined, 
and that examination should be made with a 
mind removed, as remotely as possible, from 
the influence of prejudice. Wherever the truth 
shall eventually be found to lie, its cause will 
not have been served by those on either side, 
who have prosecuted their researches with in¬ 
dolence, or drawn their conclusions without 
candour. 

The present Lecture is a resting-point, and from 
it’s nature, induces us to survey the ground which 
we have already trodden. We have advanced 
step by step through the Jewish history, from 
the calling of their great progenitor Abraham, 
to their complete establishment in Canaan. 
What important lessons arise out of this long 
chain of historical events! what examples of 
piety! what trials of patience! what exercises 
of faith! what elucidations of providence! what 
evidences of divine veracity l Abraham received 
the promise of a son at the advanced age of an 
hundred years; and the accomplishment of the 
prediction was the dawn of the fidelity of God. 
When this patriarch died, he left behind him, 


397 

for his son, no inheritance in Canaan, “ no, not 
“ so much as to set his foot on”—the “ cave of 
“ the field of Machpelah” excepted; and that, 
he held by purchase, and not as the gift of Hea¬ 
ven. Did this appear like the possession of the 
promised land by his descendants? Yet in tracing* 
successive events through all their windings, 
revelation has furnished us with decisive evi¬ 
dences as the result of our enquiries, that all 
these promises were fulfilling in their order, and 
that they actually did receive their complete ac¬ 
complishment. Through the envy of his bre¬ 
thren the favourite son of Jacob was sold into 
Egypt. By a most extraordinary combination 
of events, the little Hebrew captive was seated 
upon the throne of the kingdom, next to the 
monarch himself. A famine prevailing in Ca¬ 
naan drove his relatives into Egypt. There he 
had an opportunity of making himself known 
to those who had so grievously persecuted him; 
and his father, partly urged by necessity, and 
strongly impelled by parental affection, went 
down, with all his household, and settled in 
Egypt. This was the third generation from 
Abraham. The lapse of years swept them all 
away; and, according to the prediction, his 
“ seed became strangers in a strange land.” As 
it had been foretold, their bondage was most 
severe and cruel; and at the exact period of 


398 

time fixed, under the conduct of Moses, they 
were delivered from their servitude. Many years 
were spent in wandering through the wilderness; 
till at length, the delay occasioned by their 
transgressions being removed, they obtained 
possession of Canaan. At this point are we 
arrived; and the inferences deducible from this 
series of history are obvious, and important. It 
is evident that iie “ sees the end from the be- 
ginning,” who predicted the establishment of 
the Israelites in Canaan, four hundred years be¬ 
fore it took place, and at a time when every 
thing appeared to oppose the designs of Deity, 
and to conspire to shake the faith of Abraham. 
We have seen positive good arising out of ap¬ 
parent evil, and the purposes of God accom¬ 
plished by the most unlikely instruments. We 
are certain, admitting the statement of facts as 
laid down in the scriptures, that there is a God 
that ruleth in the earth; and that no hand, but 
the hand of Omnipotence, could have brought 
events so extraordinary to pass. We have seen 
every thing give way before a people conducted 
by the agency of Heaven; and are led irresisti¬ 
bly to conclude, that the time, the manner, the 
instruments, were all selected, and ordained, by 
the most consummate wisdom. We are taught, 
never to despair when we have a divine leader, 
never to murmur when events seem adverse to 


399 

our expectations, never to waver when the pro¬ 
mise appears remote in it’s accomplishment, and 
never to draw conclusions till Deity has com¬ 
pleted his designs. If the consideration of 
these facts, shall have strengthened the faith of 
one Christian, or furnished a single solution 
of the mysteries of Providence, we shall not 
have recited the Jewish history in vain. 

A new path is marked out for us this evening. 
We have not to lead your attention through a 
long succession of historical events, so much 
as to enter into a necessary discussion of the 
government of the Jews, connected remotely 
with some general passages of their later chro¬ 
nicles, and immediately, with that great event, 
the building of their splendid temple, one of the 
wonders of the world: The subject stands 
thus worded in the list— the government of 

THE JEWS-INCLUDING THE THEOCRACY AND 

MONARCHY TO THE BUILDING OF SOLOMONS 

temple; to which we shall subjoin a corro¬ 
boration of some subordinate facts, not 
of sufficient importance to demand a separate 
Lecture. We begin with 

I. THE THEOCRACY OF TIIE JEWS. 

» v - 

An enquiry into the rise of government, and 
sl survey of the gradual advance of power, is 



400 


neither uninteresting, nor unnecessary, in the 
Lecture of this evening. 

The first form of government appears to have 
been the parental, and tiie patriarchal. 
The father had a natural claim upon the affec¬ 
tions and the obedience of his children. They 
were united to him by sacred and indissoluble 
ties. Man is not happy alone: in every period 
of life he stands connected with others ; and his 
interests are linked with theirs. In society 
there must be an head, a leader, a guide, to whom 
the eye can look up, and upon whom the heart 
can rely. In the earliest state of nature man 
felt the force of this truth; and who could ap¬ 
pear to him so suited for this office, and so ca¬ 
pable of this responsibility, as the friend, and 
the “ guide of his youth?” Where could they 
select one so attached to their persons, to their 
interests, and to their general welfare? The 
bonds of nature were strengthened by those of 
the judgment, and its obligations confirmed by 
choice. The decisions of the heart were ratified 
by the conviction of the understanding; and 
in those early ages, the characters of the 
parent, and of the patriarch, were blended. 
Their children yielded reverence to their age, 
attachment to their tenderness, and obedience 
to their requisitions. Then the parent was the 
priest, and the king, of his family. Hiswife^ 


401 


his children, his servants, all looked up to him 
as their natural and legitimate ruler, and his 
authority was not disputed. Behold him kneel¬ 
ing before the common altar, with hallowed 
hands stretched towards heaven, imploring fa¬ 
mily, and individual, mercies! Did the demon 
of discord creep in among them ? and were the 
marks of dissatisfaction, alienation, and dis¬ 
union imprinted upon their countenances? they 
laid their differences at his paternal feet, and 
from his decision they made no appeal. Provi¬ 
dence conspired with nature to compel them to 
hold the will of a parent sacred; and the pu¬ 
nishment of Cain, the disobedient and the mur¬ 
derer, would ever be before the eyes of the first 
race of mankind. Even in a later age, Esau, 
abandoned as he was to work all iniquity with 
greediness, and deterred by no sense of shame 
from the commission of evil, when he had it in 
his heart to murder his brother, resolved to wait 
till the days of mourning for his father should 
be accomplished, who apparently was gradually 
sinking into the grave. This fratricide in his 
heart, dared not to perpetrate his horrible de¬ 
sign under the paternal roof, and before his fa¬ 
ther s face. The sons of Jacob, when they sold 
their brother, presumed not to enter into their 
father's presence, but with a tale to deceive him: 
they did not dare to risque the dreadful crime 

p d 


402 


of bringing down his grey hairs with sorrow'to 
the grave, openly and avowedly. And time 
aided these impressions of reverence which na¬ 
ture dictated, and Providence confirmed, and 
custom established. In that early period, when 
the years of a man’s life were extended to so 
great a length, the exercise of parental autho¬ 
rity reached to several generations. Paternal 
dignity acquired strength by years. The most 
tender affections were chastened by the most 
awful respect. The younger laid their hand 
upon their mouth, and were silent before vene¬ 
rable age; and they said, “ Days should speak, 
“ and the multitude of years should teach wis- 
u dom.” Blessed rule! which perpetually held 
in view the interests of those who voluntarily 
submitted to it’s directions. Blessed govern¬ 
ment ! where the father was the prince, where 
parental affection softened patriarchal authority, 
and where filial love was blended with cheerful 
submission, and with respectful obedience. 
Blessed times! when the interests of men were 
one and undivided, and when no arbitrary and 
cruel despotism blotted the primeval reign. 
Happy are those countries, which, like our own, 
approach the nearest to this picture of ancient 
simplicity in their government: where authority 
suppresses anarchy, where liberty limits power, 
and where the prince, consulting only the in- 


403 


terests, reigns always in the hearts of his wil¬ 
ling and obedient people! 

As men multiplied upon the face of the earth, 
the relations of human life branched into va¬ 
rious, and widely-extended ramifications. The 
field of authority became every day larger; and 
in a family which once was one, but now was 
divided into many, some were found who would 
not bow to patriarchal restraint: of course, as 
in the present day, there were distinct heads to 

at 

separate families, and a form of government 
was wanting which should embrace the whole. 
Here was a scene opened to ambition! The man 
of bold, daring, enterprising genius, pressed on 
to gain the dangerous summit of pre-eminence 
over his brethren. After the flood we first read 
of Nimrod. Whether he were a tyrant or not, 
according to our usage of the word, has been 
the subject of much discussion; and the scrip- 

n 

tural account of him is too short to admit the 
question to be decided with any degree of pre¬ 
cision. It is clear, however, that by some 
means he acquired a considerable ascendency 
over his brethren; and “ began to be great in 
t( the earth. He is the same with Belus, who 
“ was afterwards worshipped as a God under 
“ that name.” He was the grandson of Noah, 
and is termed in the scriptures “ a mighty 
“ hunter before the Lord.” By this laborious 

D d 2 


404 


exercise, probably, he gained the affections of 
the people, in delivering them from the dan¬ 
gers arising from the too great increase of beasts 
of prey; while, at the same moment, he train¬ 
ed up the young men to “ endure hardness/' 
The habitual command which on these occa¬ 
sions he assumed, and the habits of obedience 
which they acquired, probably, enabled him to 
establish, and to maintain, the unbounded au¬ 
thority which he, at length, exercised. It is 
said that “ he began to be mighty in the earth 
by which phrase we are probably to understand, 
that he procured himself settlements, founded 
cities, blended different families, united the peo¬ 
ple under his own authority, and moulded them 
into one state. His original dominion was 
bounded by the Euphrates and the Tigris: but 
in the revolution of years, and by gradual ac¬ 
quisitions, it was much enlarged, and became 
one of the four great empires of the world. 
Babylon was the seat of his kingdom: after- 
wards he built Nineveh, which he so denomi¬ 
nated from his son Ninus, and laid the foun¬ 
dation of the Assyrian empire.* Thus the 
patriarchal government became monarchi¬ 
cal. 


* See Rollings Anc. Hist. vcl. ii. p. 178, &c. 




405 


But men began to forsake the' precepts deli¬ 
vered to them by their fathers, and to deny, or 
to forget, the God who made them. The con¬ 
fusion of tongues separated and scattered the 
people, and this dispersion was the origin of 
nations. When idolatry had spread itself ex¬ 
tensively, perhaps we might say universally, it 
pleased God to call Abraham, and to choose his 
family, and his descendants, as his own pecu¬ 
liar people. This nation was selected as a 
public evidence of the existence, and of the pro¬ 
vidence, of God—was set up as a perpetual ad¬ 
monition to the world. We have seen them 
crowned with visible prosperity under his extra¬ 
ordinary guardianship; and we have contem¬ 
plated singular, and public manifestations, of 
the divine interposition in their favour. Should 
any be disposed to cpiestion the fact of this 
choice, and of this guardianship, they must be 
silenced by the demonstration of the same pro¬ 
vidence, and of the same care, exerted in favour 
of the same people, to the present hour. After 
a dispersion of eighteen centuries over the face 
of the whole earth, held every where in con¬ 
tempt, existing in a state of the most abject 
ignominy, they .still remain, in incredible num¬ 
bers, unmixed with, although subsisting in the 
midst of, all other nations, and totally distinct 
and separate from all the inhabitants of the 

pd 3 


406 


globe. And while this undeniable fact is a de¬ 
cisive proof of the divine choice of them as a 
people, this extraordinary interposition of Hea¬ 
ven on their behalf, is also a standing miracle 
in favour of revelation. They have been ha¬ 
rassed, detested, persecuted, massacred in all 
countries, by all ranks: yet have they seen the 
rise, and the fall, of many imperial nations, which 
held them in servitude, and which shook the 
oppressor's rod over their head; and in this for¬ 
lorn, wandering, wretched, and apparently aban¬ 
doned state, they remain a people, and a great 
people. 

From this choice, and upon the deliverance 
of Israel from Egypt, arose the Mosaic or Lje- 
vitical dispensation; and the government 
under this dispensation was a theocracy. This 
term is compounded of two Greek words, 0 E ^ 
God , and ](u to govern; and implies that the 
Jews were immediately under the authority of 
God as their king. To elucidate this assertion, 
we remark, that, in three distinct views, God 
may be considered as the God of the Hebrews: 

1. As the great Parent of all men —the Ruler 
of the hearts, the properties, the lives, and the 
affairs of the creation at large, and of the Jews 
as a part of the creation. This is a relation 
which he bears to them in common with all the 
world. Hence he required of the Israelites all 


/ 


/ 


407 

the duties of the light of nature, and of the 
moral law, which binds all mankind as well as 
themselves, and extends through every dispen¬ 
sation. 

2 . As the God of Israel peculiarly, as a visible 
and outward church, whom he had selected, 
and separated from all other nations, to be his 
own peculiar people. Hence he prescribed forms 
and modes of worship: he instituted ceremonies 
and rites of religion, by which their devotional 
exercises were regulated, as tokens of their duty, 
and of his relation to them, as a chosen and 
distinct people. 

3 . As their proper and only King , as a natiox. 
Hence he gave them judicial and political laws, 
relating to their government, their constitution, 
and the several relations and branches of so¬ 
ciety. Whoever will review with attention the 
Mosaic law, will find that there are not only 
moral obligations laid down, but ceremonial and 
ritual observances prescribed; and these again 
are connected with political and judicial com¬ 
mands: so that it is evident that the Jews were 
as much under the direction of Heaven in their 
civil, as in their religious laws and institutions. 
Hence there are four words, which are frequently 
deemed synonymous, but which in the scrip¬ 
tures have very distinct significations—“ sta- 
“ tutes, commandments, judgments, and testi- 

pd 4 


408 

“ monies''—and these set the several relations 
of God to the Jews, and particularly the theo¬ 
cracy, in a clear point of view. 

“ Statutes,” were such institutions as had 
their foundation in the will and pleasure of God 
as a Sovereign , and for which no particular rea¬ 
son on any other ground could be assigned: 
such as “ not to sow two seeds of different 
“ kinds together.” 

O 

“ Commandments,” were moral duties, for 
which the reasons were manifest, such as “ not 
“ to steal.” 

“ Judgments,” were the laws belonging to 
civil government, in things between man and 
man : such as are laid down in Exodus, the 
twenty-first and the follow ing chapters. 

“ Testimonies,” were such laws as pre¬ 
served the remembrance of some great events, 
and testified to the peculiar goodness of God: 
such as the sabbath, the passover, and all the 
feasts. 

In giving his last charge to his son Solomon, 
David enumerates these several branches of di¬ 
vine jurisdiction: “ keep the charge of the Lord 
“ thy God, to walk in his ways, to keep his 
u statutes, and his commandments, and his 
“ judgments, and his testimonies, as it is 
“ written in the law of Moses.” And thus was 
the relation of God to Israel, not merely a 


409 


common one, such as he bears to all men: but 
a peculiar one, such as he never had to an} r 
people, themselves excepted. 

That such a connection did subsist between 
God and Israel, is clearly deducible from the 
epithets bestowed upon that nation, through¬ 
out the scriptures. Because he singled them 
out from all other nations, he is expressly said 
to choose them. “ The Lord had a delight in 
thy fathers, and he chose their seed after them, 
“ even you , above ail people*.” 

In consequence of this selection, he brought 
them up out of the land of Egypt, and they 
are said to have been delivered^, saved 
purchased]), redeemed^. 

He is said to call them: “ When Israel was 
v “ a child, then I loved him, and called my son 
“ out of Egypt§.” A 

He is said to create them, to give them 
life, to have begotten them**. 

He is called their father. “ Do ye thus re- 
“ quite the Lord, O foolish people and unwise? 
“ is not he thy Father that hath bought thee? 
“ hath he not made thee, and established 



Deut. vii. 8. 
§ Hosea, xi. 1. 


* Deut. x. 15. 
f Exod. iii. 8. 


t Deut. xxxiii. 29. **Is. xliii. 1.7. Ezek. xvi. 3. Deut. xxxii. 18, 


jj Deut. xxxii. 6. ff Deut. xxxii. 6, &c. 




410 


These several scriptural terms imply a pecu¬ 
liar relation, a connection far more intimate 
than the common relation of God to the crea¬ 
tion at large, and totally distinct from it. 

Under the theocracy, rulers were appoint¬ 
ed : but these were selected by God himself, as 
may be observed in respect of all the judges ; 
and they did nothing but expressly under divine 
commission. In every movement, and in every 
plan, the will of God was consulted. The theo¬ 
cracy commenced with Moses, and closed with 
Samuel, after having subsisted through a period 
of four hundred and seventy-six years. 

The rule of Samuel, as an elder of Israel, 
lasted twenty-one years, at the close of which 
time old age stole upon him, and wishing to 
relinquish the cares of government, or at least 
to divide them, a portion of his authority was 
vested in the person of his sons, and they be¬ 
came judges. So far from copying the inflexi¬ 
ble integrity of their father, we find them de¬ 
lineated in all the features of covetousness and 
of oppression: they “ took bribes,” and “ per- 
“ verted judgment.” For a season the Israelites 
patiently endured their wrongs : but at length 
their spirit was stirred within them to resist and 
to crush this t3 r ranny. The blameless method 
of doing this, had been to make their appeal 


411 


to their divine Monarch, and to have entreated 
Samuel, under the direction of heaven, to elect 
other, and upright rulers. But instead of this, 



the divine authority, so far as 


their power extended, they insisted upon an in¬ 
tire new form of government, and resolved, 
like other nations, to have “ a king to reign 
“ over them.” Deity granting them their 
wishes, the theocracy ceased, and their govern¬ 
ment became monarchical*. Our next object 
in this Lecture is to present some account of 


* When we speak of the termination of the theocracy with Samuel, 
and at the commencement of the monarchy, we do not mean to in¬ 
sinuate, that the divine superintendence of the affairs of the Jewish 
nation ceased, or that God was less their governor, or that his rela¬ 
tion to them was less intimate, and less peculiar, than before. The 
fact is, their very kings were merely rulers of a different description, 
subjected to the same controul, and held by the same authority, as 
the judges under the theocracy. Hence we see one rejected, and 
another chosen, one set up and another cast down, and the hand of 
God every where, in the whole machine of the Israelites'government, 
directing, regulating, and giving impulse to every wheel, every spring, 
every movement. Nor has his peculiar relation to the Jews, his im¬ 
mediate superintendence of their concerns, and his miraculous guar¬ 
dianship of their persons, and of their interests, terminated to this 
hour. All that we mean to convey is, that the theocracy ceased to 
be the external and ostensible government of the Jews: that conti¬ 
nuing to exist, it was in a different shape ; and that as it respects it's 
form, their executive power became monarchical. 





412 


II. THE MONARCHY OF THE JEWS. 

The princes of Israel possessed great power, 
and in later ages, before the coining of Christ, 
it was exceedingly abused, as in the case ot 

Aliab, Manasseh, and several others. 

It is evident that this change in the govern? 

ment was displeasing to God : for it is said, 
“ He gave them a king in his anger, and took 
“ him away in his wrathand is it an enquiry 
worthy attention, what was the ground of this 
displeasure? I conceive that it was not the 
change of government as it respects the nomi¬ 
nation of a king instead of a ruler, but the 
choosing of a king, so far as in their power, to 
the exclusion of God; and on this principle he 
said to Samuel, “ They have not rejected thee, 
“ but they have rejected ME, that I should not 
“ reign over them.” Their criminality consisted 
in placing a man on the-throne of the Deity, 
and in exalting a creature to the seat, which 
had, till that time, been occupied only by the 
Creator. Not any form of government is op¬ 
posed in this declaration: but it’s force is di¬ 
rected against the presumption of the Israelites 
in rejecting a divine Governor. Their situation 
was peculiar—was unlike that of all other na¬ 
tions ; and they were not at liberty, on just prim* 


413 


ciples, to make so material an alteration in their 
government without first consulting God, and 
having the sanction of his authority. So far from 
consulting him, it appears from the whole his¬ 
tory, that they insisted upon having a king, in 
opposition to the divine will, and* in defiance 
of all the consequences which Samuel foretold. 

At the expiration of the theocracy, Saul 
was privately anointed king, and afterwards 
publicly proclaimed at Mizpeh. From the time 
of his anointing, to his death in Gilboa, he 
reigned over Israel forty years. It would not 
be consistent either with our purpose, or with 
the time usually allotted to these exercises, to 
enter into a minute detail of the events of his 
reign, lie drew upon himself the displeasure 
of God, by disobeying his express command, 
in relation to the extermination of the Amide- 
kites, whom he had, at the time when they op¬ 
posed Israel in the wilderness, devoted to utter 
destruction. From this period to the end of 
his reign, lie is presented to us as an object of 
pity! It is said, “the spirit of God forsook 
“ him, and an evil spirit troubled him. It is 
probable that we are to understand by these 
terms, that the immediate direction which he 
was accustomed to receive from God was with¬ 
drawn—“ The Lord answered him neither by 
prophets nor by dreamsthat his wisdom 


414 


and prudence forsook him: that he was subject 
to a wearing, melancholy disorder: that he was 
given up to his evil passions and inclinations; 
and that a spirit of envy, hatred, and cruelty, 
took place of a spirit of uprightness, candour, 
and mercy. Perhaps actual possession of an 
evil spirit, such as those so clearly proved in 
the days of Christ, is to be understood. Jose¬ 
phus so considers it, and describes it’s opera¬ 
tions as superinducing a sensation of suffoca¬ 
tion, resembling those emotions which the 
evangelists describe as attending demoniacal 
influences: at least a species of madness seems 
intended. David was early introduced at court; 
he had previously been anointed king in private 
in place of Saul; and while his amiable qualities, 
and his valour in vanquishing Goliath, drew upon 
him the affections of the people, they excited 
the fears, and the hatred, of the jealous mo¬ 
narch, who persecuted him even to the extre¬ 
mities of his kingdom, and aimed at nothing 
less than his destruction. While the father was 
seeking the life of this amiable young man, his 
son was attached to him by the most sincere 
affection, and “ Jonathan loved David as his 
“ own soul.” Never was the influence, the 
delicacy, the beauty of friendship, painted by 
so masterly an hand, as that of the sacred his¬ 
torian on this occasion. To read it unmoved, is 


415 


to carry in one’s bosom a rock of adamant, and 
not an heart of flesh; and to attempt to heighten 
its effect, would be as futile and as absurd as 
to think of adding brighter and softer colours 
to the radiance, with which the pencil of na¬ 
ture paints the west at sun-set. 

Saul at length fell in the field of battle against 
the Philistines at Gilboa, and (Oh, the ravages 
of war!) in the same unhappy conflict, Jona¬ 
than perished also*. It was upon this melan¬ 
choly occasion, that his surviving friend wrote 
that affecting lamentation, which has been the 
admiration of ages. 

“ O beauty of Israel, slain upon thy own 
“ mountains ! How are the mighty fallen ! Tell 
“ it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of 
t( Askelon : lest the daughters of the Philistines 
“ rejoice, lest the daughters of the uncircum- 
“ cised triumph. Ye mountains of Gilboa, on 
“ you be neither dew, nor rain, nor fields 
u affording oblations: for there the shield of 
<c the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of 
“ Saul, the armour of the anointed with ojlt. 
“ From the blood of the slain, from the slaughter 
“ of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan was not 


* See note 1, at the end of this Lecture. 
f Sea uqte 2, at die end of this Lecture. 




4IG 




“ withheld, and the sword of Saul never re- 
“ turned in vain. Saul and Jonathan were 
“ lovely and pleasant in their lives, and in their 
“ death they were not divided: they were 
“ swifter than eagles, they were stronger than 
“ lions. Ye daughters of Israel, weep over 
“ Saul, who clothed vou in scarlet with de- 
“ lights, who put ornaments of gold on your 
“ apparel. How are the mighty fallen in the 
“ midst of the battle! O Jonathan, slain upon 
“ thine own mountains! I am distressed for 
“ thee, my brother Jonathan ! very pleasant 
“ hast thou been unto me! Thy love to me 
“ was wonderful! surpassing the love of wo- 
“ men! Iiow have the mighty fallen! How 
“ have the weapons of war perished!” 

David succeeded to the throne of his kins;- 
dom, and through a period of forty (or if you 
reckon from the time in which he was anointed, 
forty-eight) years, lie reigned beloved by the 
people, and distinguished by Divine favour. 
Few characters discover so complete a combi¬ 
nation of excellence and of defect as that of 
David. Yet, from first to last, you may trace 
the “ man after Gods own heart,” humble, com- 
trite, affectionate, and sincere! Few reigns have 
discovered greater fluctuations of triumph and 
of affliction. Amid the glory to which the 
Israelites were rising under his rule, and the 


417 

zenith of which they had nearly attained, his 
life was chequered by trial. He was surrounded 
by enemies, and engaged in almost perpetual 
warfare. His domestic peace was destroyed, 
by the dishonour of his daughter, and by the 
slaughter of his son who effected it. He was 
driven from his kingdom by the rebellion of 
Absalom. A pestilence of three days ravaged 
his empire, and destroyed seventy thousand 
persons. And the last moments of a turbulent 
life, were disturbed, and embittered, by the 
conspiracy of his son Adonijah against Solomon, 
whom lie had nominated as his successor. 

Before his death, David had formed the de¬ 
sign of building a temple to God, which was 
realized by Solomon. He had prepared most of 
the materials, had drawn up the plan according 
to Divine instructions, and left full and clear 
directions to his son respecting it. We entreat 

t 

your attention, for a few moments, prior to our 
enlargement on this purpose, till we bring down 
the monarchy to it’s close. In the days of Ile- 
hoboam, the kingdom of Israel was divided; 
and two distinct lines of kings succeeded to 
the thrones of Judah and of Israel. According 
to the prediction of Jacob, the “ sceptre did 
“ not depart from Judah, nor a lawgiver from 
“ beneath his feet, till Shiloh came.” The ten 
tribes of Israel were carried away captive, and 

re 


418 


have not been heard of from that time to this 
hour: but the sceptre remained with Judah to 
the coming of Christ. In the days of the Sa¬ 
viour the throne was filled by Herod, who held 
his power under the Roman emperor ; and soon 
after the ascension of our Lord, the 6ity of Je¬ 
rusalem was taken, their temple destroyed, and 
they themselves dispersed. From that period, 
they have wandered over the face of the whole 
earth, “ without a king,” without a temple, 
<c without an ephod,” without a lawgiver, 
“ without a sacrifice,” and shall continue to do 
so, till they acknowledge Messiah the prince, 
and say—“ Blessed is he that cometh in the 
“ name of the Lord f 

From the days of Jesus, the kingdom of Da¬ 
vid has been changed into a spiritual kingdom— 
a kingdom not possessing worldly splendour, 
neither supported by temporal power. It has 
resisted every attack, it has extended over many 
nations, it must swallow up every empire, it 
will diffuse itself wide as the world. We must 
contemplate briefly, 


III. THE BUILDING OF SOLOMONS TEMPLE. 

-■* i * 

During the theocracy, the worship of God 
was conducted in a moveable tabernacle, con- 


419 

structed after the pattern drawn up by God 
himself, and communicated to Moses in the 
wilderness: nor was any change introduced 
into this mode of worship, till the prosperous 
and glorious reign of Solomon. Till the govern¬ 
ment of the Jews became an established mo¬ 
narchy, no ideas were entertained of a national 
temple. It rested with David to form, with 
the Deity to approve, and with Solomon to exe¬ 
cute, this magnificent design. Neither labour, 
nor expense, were spared, in the erection of 
this grand building, confessedly the most splen¬ 
did edifice upon which the sun ever shone. For 
a minute delineation of this stupendous work, 
we must refer you to the scriptures themselves ; 
and we have little difficulty in confirming the 
fidelity of the sacred narrative on this subject. 
The fact of the existence and the grandeur of 
this edifice, is indisputable. It must have been 
known, while it was building, to all the world; 
for the report of such a design would spread 
through all nations. It was known at Tyre, 
because they furnished workmen in the most 
beautiful and delicate parts of the structure. It 
was known to the queen of Sheba, who came 
to be an eye-witness of the wisdom and of the 
glory of Solomon. It was known at Babylon, 
by the report of the armies of Nebuchadnezzar. 
“ After Solomon’s temple was built, the temple 

e e 2! 


420 


“ of Vulcan in Egypt, and others in different 
“ places, were founded in imitation of it: just 
“ as the oracles of the heathens were imitations 
“ of the divine communications made to Is- 
u rael*/’ The temple of Solomon, erected ac¬ 
cording to the scriptural account, must be ad¬ 
mitted as an indisputable fact. The glory of 
this temple was soon extinguished; and after 
its destruction the Jews built another, inferior 
to the former in magnificence : which also has 
sunk under the ravages of war, and, with that 
whole dispensation, has yielded to a purer, yet 
less splendid, order of worship. 

“ Howbeit the Most High dwelleth not in 
“ temples made with hands neither is his 
presence confined to a single world. To the 
limited capacity of man, a kingdom is a large 
possession, a world is an object of infinite im¬ 
portance. Could he ascend to the next planet, 
he would look down upon it as a shining spark, 
amid myriads of others, scattered through the 
regions of space. Were the presence of the 
Deity confined to this globe, who would renew 
the blunted horns of the moon? Who would 
balance yonder wandering worlds? Who would 
supply the sun with light? Who would feed 


* Bishop Watsoo’s Theolog;. Tracts. Vol. V. p. 27 , 


Jl 


? 






421 

the everlasting fires of those remote orbs, 
the suns of other worlds, and the centres of 
other systems ? Who would diffuse glory and 
felicity through the heaven of heavens ? That 
quickening presence, that powerful hand, that 
unsearchable wisdom, that unwearied goodness, 
that infinite Being, is needed every where at 
the same moment; is adored through all his 
works; is felt at the same time sustaining the 
whole universe; and surely “ the Most High 
“ dwelleth not in temples made with hands.” 
It remains that we now corroborate 


IV. SOME SUBORDINATE SCRIPTURE FACTS: 

—To which, however interesting, we cannot 
afford, in our plan, the labour and time of a 
separate Lecture; and which may with propriety 
be noticed here. 

We have passed over the book of Judges, be¬ 
cause it was not immediately connected with 
the larger events proposed for consideration : 
but the facts contained in that instructive series 
of narration, are equally authenticated by fo¬ 
reign testimonies. It will be necessary also to 
anticipate some other subordinate facts, subse¬ 
quent in point of time to the subjects discussed 
this evening, that the thread of those which 

e e 3 


422 


remain may not be broken, nor more serious and 
important enquiries interrupted. 

The memorial of the actions of Gideon is 
preserved by Sanchoniathon, a Tyrian writer, 
who lived not long* after him, and whose anti¬ 
quity is attested by Porphyry. 

From the manner of Jepthae's devoting his 
daughter, after his victory over the Ammonites, 
arose the story of the sacrifice of Iphigenia: it 
being usual with the heathens, as ./Elian ob¬ 
serves, to attribute to their later heroes, the 
glory of the actions of those who lived long 
before*. 

Ovid has transmitted to us the account of a 
feast observed by the ancient Romans in April, 
the time of the Jewish harvest; in which they 
let loose foxes with torches fastened to their 
tailsf. Can we doubt that this certainly origi¬ 
nated in the history of Sampson? and that it 
was brought into Italy by the Phenicians ? May 
we not also conclude, that from the treachery 
discovered in Delilah’s treatment of Sampson, 
arose the history of Nisus, and of his unnatural 
daughter, who cut off those fatal hairs from 


* JEl. Varise Historic, lib. v. cap. 3. 
t Cur igitur missae vinctis ardentia tsedis 
Terga ferant vulpes, caussa docenda mihi. 

Ovid. Fast, lib. iv . /. 681, &c. 




423 


the head of her father, upon which his victory 
and his security depended*? The labours of Her¬ 
cules appear to be but an imperfect copy of the 
prodigious strength and valour of Sampson: or 
at least, the facts related of the one, probably 
suggested the exploits fabled of the other. 

Also in the succeeding histories of Israel and 
Judah, some of the more extraordinary facts 
are confirmed by foreign testimonies. 

The victory of David over the Syrians of 
Zoba, on the banks of the Euphrates, is pre¬ 
served by Nicholaus Damascen us. 

There are monuments extant, which certify 
the part that Hiram, king of Tyre, took in 
building the temple of Solomon. 

Herodotus records the taking of Jerusalem 
by the king of Egypt, as stated in the history 
of Rehoboam’s reign. In the same writer may 
be traced the tradition of the destruction of 
Senacherib’s army, because of his blasphemies 
against God: which circumstance the Egyp- 


- Alcathoe, quara Nisus habet; oui splendidus ostro 

Inter honoratos medio de vertice canos 
Crinis inhaerebat, magni fiducia regni. 

—--Thalamos taciturna paternos 

Intrat; et (lieu facinus !) fatal! nata parentem 
GTine suum spoliat. 

Ovid. Metam. lib. via. 1. 8-10, et 84-86, 


e e 4 






424 


tians disguised, as was common with them, to 
appropriate it to themselves*. 

May we not also suppose that the story of 
Phaeton originated in some imperfect tradition 
of the translation of Elijah, in a chariot of fire? 
It is probable that imagination supplied the 
want of evidence, in the verses of the poets, 
and by their alterations and additions, it is easy 
to account for the remoteness of their fables 
from this fact, to which, nevertheless, they pos¬ 
sibly bear a first relation. But it is difficult to 
imagine from what other source the tale could 
arise, and what other event would afford mate¬ 
rials for so singular a storyf. 

The history of Jonah, and the account that 
he was miraculously preserved three days and 
three nights in the bowels of the fish, has often 
excited the ridicule, and employed the wit, of 
infidelity: yet it is not without it’s support from 
heathen testimonies. This singular event is 
related by Lycophron, and by jEneas Gazeus, 
with this variation from the inspired writings, 
that they call the prophet, Hercules. Neither 
are we to be surprised at this deviation from the 


* Herod, lib. ii. cap. 141. 

t See, on these confirmations of scriptural truth, Bishop Watson's 
Theological Tracts, Vol. I. p. 355, 356. 





425 


historic veracity of the Bible: for Hercules was 
the great hero of the ancients; and Tacitus 
himself acknowledges, that to advance the fame 
of this distinguished favourite, they do not he¬ 
sitate to ascribe to him, whatever is extraordi¬ 
nary or noble in history, to whomsoever the 
real praise is justly due. They plunder every 
other celebrated character of all his merit, to 
adorn their fabled hero with the spoils stolen 
from truth, and honestly belonging to others. 
iEneas Gazeus, in Theophrastus, uses these 
words—“ Hercules was saved by a whale swal- 
“ lowing him, when the ship in which he sailed 
“ was wrecked*.” How well these circum¬ 
stances, in their general features, accord with 
the punishment of Jonah for his disobedience, 
and with the fearful tempest which preceded it! 

Mexaxder the historian confirms, in his 
acts of Xthobal, king of Tyre, the dearth in 
the days of Ahab, king of Israel, in which Eli¬ 
jah was miraculously preserved by the ravens, 
and by the wido\y of Zarephath, and says that 
by supplication to God it was followed by rain, 
and by much thunderf. 


* £i' cr'KtQ y.cu Hpoty.Xrjg abera,^ js veu<; £!p yi<; ettAej, 

V7TQ WTuq xulcc7ro§yjvxt xxi hcttru^EcSoit. 

/Eneas Gazaus Theophrasto. 

f Jos. Antiq. Jud. Tom. I. lib. viii. cap. xiii. p. 578. Iludsoni edit. 





426 



Cyprian, Julian, and others, mention the 
fire which descended from heaven to consume 
the sacrifice of Elijah*. 

It is unnecessary farther to enlarge upon these 
subjects : enough has already been produced, 
to prove to every unprejudiced mind, that the 
most trivial circumstances of the sacred narra¬ 
tive, even those parts of it which might not be 
supposed, intimately and materially, to affect 
the truth and the influence of Christianity, are 
capable of demonstration from the traditions of 
the heathen world, and from the testimony of 
their earliest writers. 

Brethren, we have led back your attention to 
the splendour and magnificence of former times. 
Upon us “ the ends of the earth” are come. 
The fathers are assembled in the world of spirits, 
and “ they without us cannot be made perfect.” 
We have not seen “ Solomon in all his glory:” 
but “ a greater than Solomon is here !” In all 
things Jesus has the pre-eminence. Was Solo¬ 
mon wise? Grace was poured upon the Saviour's 
lips, and he was fairer than the sons of men! 
Was Solomon mighty? “All power” is given 
unto Jesus “ in heaven and in earth !” Was the 


* Grot, de Verit. Rcl. Christ, lib. i. sect. xvi. in not. 106. See also* 
note 3, at the end of this Lecture. 





427 

dominion of Solomon extensive, and his reign 
peaceful and prosperous? “ The dominion’ also 
of Jesus “ is from sea to sea, and from the river 
“ to the ends of the earth“ and of his king- 
“ dom, and of his peace, there is no end!” Is 
the renown of Solomon immortal? Of Jesus it 
is written, “ His name shall endure for ever; 
“ his name shall be continued so long as the 
cc sun, and men shall be blessed in him: all 
“ nations shall call him blessed!'’ We have 
never beheld the magnificence of the temple 
of Solomon: but in the kingdom of our spiri¬ 
tual Solomon, is a temple not made with hands, 
where the armies of the redeemed are already 
congregated, and wait our arrival. Solomon 
was a servant, but Jesus is a son—“ and let the 
“ whole earth be filled with his glory! Amen 
■ c and amen/’ 


NOTES 


Note 1 . —It would have been foreign from the immediate object 
of the preceding Lecture, to have entered into any discussion of the 
appearance of Samuel to Saul: but I cannot forbear entering my indi¬ 
vidual protest against the opinions, either that the sorceress made some 
person in her interest personate the apparition of the prophet, or 
that some demon attempted such a personification. I believe that it 
■was indeed the spirit of Samuel—and I shall subjoin, as the best 
illustration of my own views, the following able testimonies. 

The ingenious writers of the Encyclopaedia Britannica reason 
thus— 

“ Some have thought there was nothing more than a trick, by 
il which a cunning woman imposed upon Saul’s credulity, making 
u him believe that some confidant of her own was the ghost of Sa- 
il muel. But had that been the case, she would undoubtedly have 
u made the pretended Samuel’s answer, as pleasing to the king as 
u possible, both to save her own life, which appears from the con- 
il text to have been in danger, and likewise to have procured the 
iC larger reward. She would never have told her sovereign, she 
“ durst not have told him, that he himself should be shortly slain, 
“ and his sons with him; and that the host of Israel should be de- 
<l livered into the hand of the Philistines*. For this reason many 
critics, both Jewish and Christian, have supposed that the appa- 


* It was impossible that she could have prejudged the event of a bat¬ 
tle, than which nothing is more uncertain. 








NOTES. 


429 

(i rition was really a demon, or evil angel, by whose assistance the 
** woman was accustomed to work wonders, and to foretel future 
* c events. But it is surely very incredible, that one of the apostate 
“ spirits of hell, should have upbraided Saul for applying to a sor- 
“ ceress , or should have accosted him in such words as these: * Why 
** ‘ hast thou disquieted me to bring me up ? Wherefore dost thou 
“ 6 ask of me, seeing the Lord is departed from thee, and is become 
“ 1 thine enemy? For the Lord hath rent the kingdom out of thine 
u ‘ hand, and given it to thy neighbour, even to David. Because 
tc ‘ thou obeyedst not the voice of the Lord y therefore the Lord hath 
i( * done this thing to thee this day/ It is to be observed farther, 
u that what was here denounced against Saul w r as really prophetic, 
“ and that the event answered to the prophecy in every particular. 
“ Now, though we do not deny that there are created spirits of pe- 
“ netration vastly superior to that of the most enlarged human un- 
“ derstanding; yet we dare maintain, that no finite intelligence could 
u by it’s own mere capacity have ever found out the precise time of 
** the two armies engaging, the success of the Philistines, the con- 
“ sequences of the victory, and the very names of the persons that 
u were to fall in the battle. Saul and his sons were indeed men of 
ec tried bravery, and therefore likely to expose themselves to the 
“ greatest danger; but after the menaces which he received from 
“ the apparition, he would have been impelled, one should think, 
“ by common prudence, either to chicane w ith the enemy, or to re- 
u tire from the field vvitliout exposing himself, his sons, and the 
“ whole army to certain and inevitable destruction; and his acting 
“ differently, with the consequences of his conduct, were events 
« which no limited understanding could either foresee or certainly 
“ foretel. If to these circumstances we add the suddenness of Sa- 
“ muePs appearance, witli the effect which it had upon the sorceress 
i( herself, we shall find reason to believe that the apparition was that 
“ of no evil demon. There is not, we believe, upon record, another 
u instance of any person's pretending to raise a ghost from below, 
“ without previously using some magical rites, or some form ot in- 
“ cantation. As nothing of that kind is mentioned in the case be- 
« fore us, it is probable that Samuel appeared before he was called. 
“ It is likewise evident from the narrative, that the apparition w>as 
« not what the woman expected; for we are told that when she saw 


430 


NOTES. 


t( Samuel, she cried out for fear. And when the king exhorted her 
“ not to be afraid, and asked what she saw, ( the woman said, I sec 
“ ‘ gods (elohim) ascending out of the earth/ Now, had she been 
ft accustomed to do such feats, and known that what she saw was 
“ only her subservient demon, it is not conceivable that she could 
“ have been so frightened, or have mistaken her familiar for elohim 
tl in any sense in which that word can be taken. We are therefore 
u strongly inclined to adopt the opinion of those who hold that it 
11 was Samuel himself who appeared and prophecied, not called up 
<l by the wretched woman or her demons, but, to her utter confu- 
<c sion, and the disgrace of her art, sent by God to rebuke Saul's 
u madness in a most affecting and mortifying way, and to deter all 
u others from ever applying to magicians or demons for assistance 
“ when refused comfort from Heaven. For though this hypothesis 
“ may, to a superficial thinker, seem to transgress the rule of Ho- 
tc race— nec Dens intersit , &c.—which is as applicable to the inter- 
u pretation of scripture, as to the introduction of supernatural 
“ agency in human compositions ; yet he who has studied the theo- 
u cratical constitution of Israel, the nature of the office which was 
* e there termed regal, and by what means the administration was in 
t( emergencies conducted, will have a different opinion, and at once 
t{ perceive the dignus vindice nodus.” 

Eneijc. Brit. Vol. X. pt. ii. art. Magic. 
Of the same opinion is the pious Mr. Hervey— 

“ 1 Sam. xxviii. 19.—On this place the Dutch translator of the 
li Meditations has added a note ; to correct, very probably, what he 
supposes a mistake. On the same supposition, I presume, the 
u compilers of our Rubric ordered the last verse of Eccles. xlvi. to 
“ be omitted, in the daily service of the Church. But that the sen- 
“ timent, hinted above/' (an opinion coinciding with that just 
stated) “ is strictly true; that it was Samuel himself 

“ (not an infernal spirit, personating the prophet) who appeared to 
“ the female necromancer at Endor; appeared not in compliance 
with any diabolical incantation, but in pursuance of the divine 
“ commission ; this, I think, is fully proved in the Historical Ac- 
“ count of the Life of David, Vol. I. chap. Q3/' 

Herveys Medit. Vol. I.p. 250, notes. Heptinstall’s edit. 
These extracts refer to page 415, of the preceding Lecture. 


1st otes. 


431 


% 


Note 2. —In the translation of David’s lamentation over Jonathan, 
I have not departed from the literal rendering of our own Bible, but 
where it appeared to me that the reading was amended or elucidated 
by the alteration. In rendering the 21st verse, “ there the shield of 
“ the mighty is vilely cast away, the shield of Saul, the armour of the 
“ anointed with oil;” I have followed the translation of Dr. Geddes: 
who has the following note on the word u armour ■”— “ From the small 
“ change of one letter into another, of a very similar form, arises 
“ this apposite rendering. Interpreters make a shift to translate 
u the present text thus: as if he had not been anointed zeith oil. By 
“ what rules of translation I know not.” His translation of this la¬ 
mentation is singularly beautiful throughout. He renders the begin¬ 
ning of it —“ O antelope of Israel! pierced on thine own mountains!” 
This rendering is correctly literal: but as the word >iyn also signi¬ 
fies ornamentum*, I have preferred the rendering “ 0 beauty of Is- 
u rael, &c.” as in the Lecture. 

This note refers to page 415, of the preceding Lecture. 


Note 3.—Testimony of Menander, the historian, to the drought 
in the days of Elijah, preserved by Josephus: 

WllflVYlTOU TVS OCVofcifpOLS TXVTVS KXV Mtvxv^os l* T eel's 1 $q(sxX8 
tS Tvgiuiv QxcriXzas zr^x^tav, Xtyuv vtus * 4£ u&epyyx re ire ccvtS 
ii eyevero, cezro rS 'fTt^Qt^erxia privo; sus tS i^optvu eras 'tzntfcoz* 
rxis. ixtTtixv ci’uvT 3 TrovvtTXpzvtt, Ktgxvvoiis ir-wviis G&hv)xevxi* 
u vtos rro^v B orgvv exTicrz tvv Itt) xxv A '.'v^ctv ryv tv A&vy.” 

K ou txvtx fiv, $r t \h>v rvv W A^xQu yevopeniv xvoyGgictv, xxlx yx{ 
y.ou t2t ov xxi tQxt/tXtvtre Tvgiuv, b M evctvfyos xvxytygxQtv. 

—Menander also notes this defect of rain, in the acts of Ithobul, king 
of the Tyrians, speaking thus: “ There was a deficiency of rain from 
“ the month of October, until October in the succeeding year. But 
a J ie indeed praying, there followed much thunder. He built the 
a city of Botrys in Phenicia, and Auza in Lybia.” And certainly 
he relates these things of t he drought which happened in the time of 
Ahab, for at that time Ithobul did reign over the Tyrians, as Menan¬ 
der himself writes. 

Joseph. Antiq. Jud. Tom. I. lib. viii. cap. xiii.p. 378. Hudsoni edit. 


* See Taylor’s Hebrew Concordance on the word HUY. 







432 


NOTES. 


Testimonies of Julian and of Cyprian, quoted by Grotius, relative 
to the fire which consumed the sacrifice of Elijah. Julianus in libro 
Cyrilli decimo: 

IT £oaa.ynv Ss @oopcj y.ai Qusiv ttvq ywg, (pno-iv, 

a y.uTZKnv a<77ni> £7r* M uatu<; rca, ; Svcria,<; uvoth'ujy.ov’ aTraf rS to i%) 
lAucriux; tyevelo, xa» Itt* HAia tS ©EcrC/ra ttccMv (jut a, 7 roAAa? xganaq. — 1 
Vide et sequentia de igne ccelesti ; Cyprianus Testimoniorum III. 
u Item in sacrificiis quoecunque accepta habebat Deus, descendebat 
<£ ignis de coelo qui sacrificata consumere!.” Julian in the tenth 
hook of Cyril: “ Ye refuse to bring sacrifices to the altar, and to 
u present them, because that fire does not descend from heaven to 
<c consume the victims, as in the time of Moses. This happened in- 
“ deed to Moses, and long after also to Elijah the TishbiteT See 
tchat folloics also concerning the fire from heaven; Cyprian, in the 
Third of his Testimonies, says— u That in the sacrifices, whatsoever 
“ had acceptance with God, fire came down from heaven which con- 
u sumcd the things offered .” 

Grotius de Ver. llelig. Christ, sect. xvi. not. 106. 

These quotations refer to page 426, of the preceding Lecture. 


433 


LECTURE XL 

THE CAPTIVITIES OF ISRAEL AND OF 

JUDAH. 


The first of these events is recorded in 
2 KINGS XVII. 1 - 6 . 

In the twelfth year of Ahaz king of Judah , be¬ 
gan Hoshea the son of Elah to reign in Sama¬ 
ria over Israel nine years. And he did that 
which zvas evil in the sight of the Lord, but 
not as the kings of Israel that zvere before him . 
Against him came up Shalmaneser , king of Assy- 
ria, and Hoshea became his servant , and gave 
him presents. And the king of Assyria found 
conspiracy in Hoshea : for he had sent messen¬ 
gers to So king of Egypt , and brought no pre¬ 
sent to the king of Assyria ,, as he had done year 
by year: therefore the king of Assyria shut him 
up , and bound him in prison. Then the king of 

f f 




434 


Assyria came up throughout all the land , and 
went up to Samaria, and besieged it three years . 
In the ninth year of Hoshea, the king of Assyria 
took Samaria, and carried Israel away into 
Assyria, and placed them in Halah , m 
Habor by the river of Gozan, and in the cities 
of the Medes . 

The second is preserved in 

2 CHRON. XXXVI. 14 - 21 . 

Moreover , #// chief of the priests, and the peo¬ 

ple transgressed very much, after all the abomi¬ 
nations of the heathen, and polluted the house of 
the Lord which he had hallozved in Jerusalem. 
And the Lord God of their fathers sent to 
them by his messengers, rising up betimes and 
sending ; because he had compassion on his peo¬ 
ple, and on his dwelling-place: But they mocked 
the messengers of God, and despised his words , 
and misused his prophets, until the wrath of the 
Lord arose against his people, till there was no 
remedy . Therefore he brought upon them the 
king of the Chaldees, who slew their young men 
with the sword, in the house of their sanctuary , 
and had no compassion upon young man, or 
maiden, or old man, or him that stoopedfor age: 
he gave them all into his hand . And all the 


435 


vessels of the house of God , great and small, 
and the treasures of the house of the Lord, and 
the treasures of the king , and of his princes: all 
these he brought to Babylon. And they burned 
the house of God , and brake down the wall of 
Jerusalem, and burned all the palaces thereof 
with fire, and destroyed all the goodly vessels 
thereof And them that had escaped from the 
sword, carried he away to Babylon : where they 
were serva?its to him, and his sons, until the 
reign of the kingdom of Persia : To fulfil the 
word of the Lord by the mouth of Jeremiah, 
until the land had enjoyed her sabbaths : for as 
long as she lay desolate, she kept sabbath, to ful¬ 
fil threescore and ten years . 


The history of empires and of people, trans¬ 
mitted from generation to generation, what is 
it but the record of the human heart? All the 
scenes of horror which have petrified the spec¬ 
tator in the city and in the field, were drawn 
first in the imagination of a depraved spirit, be¬ 
fore they were exhibited in the world. We 
contemplate with dismay a conqueror returning 
from the battle dyed in blood, and we shudder 
as we look upon the empurpled plain: but we 
carry within us, all the frightful passions which 
gave birth to these cruelties ; and in our own 
bosom, are sown, with unsparing hand, the 

F f 2 


436 ' 

4 

prolific seeds, of which these tears and this 
misery are the sad harvest. The most atrocious 
acts of violence which have disgraced society, 
were conceived in the bosom of a fellow-worm, 
before they burst to light. The influence of 
depravity is felt in the world, but it’s spring is 
within us; and every individual bears his pro¬ 
portion of the hidden plague. In the existence 
of evil, and in the pressure of calamity upon 
society, we .have the symptoms of it; the dis¬ 
ease itself is interwoven with our very being, 
and lurks unseen, while it tyrannises unresisted, 
in the human heart. The history of nations, 
therefore, is but the history of human nature; 
and it presents a most affecting view of human 
depravity. 

It is the glory and the beauty of sacred his¬ 
tory to make us acquainted with ?ne?i ) and to 
disclose to us human feelings. No artificial 
strokes are used in the delineation of character 
in this volume. No romantic, unnatural cir¬ 
cumstances, are recorded as belonging to the 
individual selected, to raise wonder and to lead 
captive the fancy : for where miraculous events 
are asserted, we trace the finger of God, and 
are no longer surprised, and they bear all the 
marks of matter of fact, for which some cause 
is assignable. No false gloss varnishes a de¬ 
praved disposition. No unreal splendours daz- 



437 

zle and astonish us. All is natural; and feel¬ 
ing ourselves among our brethren in the flesh, 
correspondent emotions spring up within us, 
when we perceive them agitated by grief or 
joy; and we read our own hearts while the nar¬ 
rative permits us to to look into theirs. Whether 
we are overwhelmed with the perplexities of 
kingdoms, or are occasionally called to the 
field of battle; whether we withess the slaughter 
of our fellow-men, or are involved in the in¬ 
trigues and policies of worldly courts; or 
whether we enter the tranquil bosom of a family, 
and share their domestic comforts and trials, 
and read in these hallowed pages the same 
scenes which pass before our eyes every day that 
we live; we mark, with equal gratification and 
advantage, the developement of the plans of 
Providence, in relation both to public and do¬ 
mestic life; and deduce from it some infer¬ 
ences applicable to the dealings of God, with us, 
as a nation, or as individuals. Who can read the 
scriptures without feeling that instruction and 
amusement are combined? Pleasure and religious 
information intermingle, and are blended. The 
imagination is captivated, the heart is warmed, 
the judgment is enlightened, the spirit is re¬ 
freshed and invigorated. 

“ Let him that thinketh he standeth, take 
“ heed lest he fall,” is an admonition of uner- 

F f 3 


438 


ring wisdom, the excellence of which is proved 
in the blotted pages of human apostacy. We 
have seen Solomon building an house for God, 
enjoying a superiority of understanding over 
the whole human race, exulting in divine in¬ 
tercourse, crowned with riches and with ho¬ 
nour, and extending his dominion from sea to 
sea. Fair is the aspect of piety, and we hang 
over it, unwilling to withdraw our enchanted 
attention from it! The morning of his day was 
unusually bright and promising : the noon be¬ 
came overcast; and in the evening of his life, 
his sun set enveloped with clouds, and shrouded 
by the most gloomy obscurity. It requires 
more than a common measure of grace to sup¬ 
port uninjured the flatteries of prosperity : Solo¬ 
mon was inebriated with them, and fell from 
his exalted piety into folly, guilt, and conse¬ 
quent danger. Who does not weep to see the 
king of Israel, whose youthful wisdom drew a 
princess from her country to try the justice of 
his celebrity, bowing his hoary head to the 
dust before a dumb idol, and ascribing to the 
work of mens hands the glory and the wor¬ 
ship due only to God P Son of the morning, how 
art thou fallen! The wisdom which distilled 
from his lips, which “ spake of trees from the 
“ cedar tree that is in Lebanon, even to the 
il hyssop which springeth out of the wall,” and 


439 

the penetration of which, pierced through the 
secrets of nature—O where did it slumber, when 
he forsook the Lord God of his father David, 
and “ went after Ashtoreth, the goddess of the 
“ Zidonians, and Milcom, the abomination of 
“ the Ammonites?” How worthless is “ the wis¬ 
dom of the wise,” when left to itself! and how 
easily does the power of temptation subdue the 
energies of the heart, and enslave the man, 
when the assisting hand of Heaven is with¬ 
drawn ! The last days of Solomon formed a sad 
contrast to the lustre of his younger life. 
Blasted by vice, the fruits of the autumn but 
ill answered the promise of the spring. From 
the moment of his attachment to idolatry, he 
passed over to deserved oblivion; and having 
reigned in Israel forty years, “ he slept with 
“ his fathers, and was buried in the city of 
iC David.” 

Iiehoboam his son succeeded him, and in his 
days the kingdom was divided. Ten of the 
tribes of Israel followed Jeroboam the son of 
Nebat, and two only, Judah and Benjamin, ad¬ 
hered to the house of David. This division had 
been foretold, in the days of Solomon, by 
Ahijah the Shilonite. From this period these 
kingdoms were totally distinct; and under the 
titles of Israel and Judah, they had a separate 
line of kings, and were even sometimes found 

f f 4 



440 


at war with each other. It is not our design 
to enter into the history of the kingdoms thus 
separated: but we refer you to the books of the 
Kings, and of the Chronicles; which even in 
the estimation of scepticism, ought surely to 
have an equal degree of credit, with the regular 
and authenticated records of any other country. 
The descendants of Abraham thus divided, were 
punished by bondage for their transgressions, at 
two different periods, under different circum¬ 
stances, in different places, with different con¬ 
sequences. The object of the present meeting 
is, to exhibit and to corroborate, The captivi¬ 
ties of Israel and of Judah. 


I. THE CAPTIVITY OF ISRAEL. 

The bondage of the ten tribes took place in 
the ninth year of the reign of Hoshea, king of 
Israel, in the year of the world 3585 , and seven 
hundred and twenty-one years before Christ. 
According to Josephus they were removed out 
of their country “ nine hundred and forty- 
“ seven years after their forefathers were brought 
“ out of the land of Egypt; eight hundred years 
“ after Joshua had been their leader; and two 
“ hundred and forty years, seven months, and 
u seven days, after they had revolted from Re- 


441 


“ hoboam*.” It was begun in the days of Pekah, 
king] of Israel, and completed by Shalmaneser, 
king of Assyria, Shalmaneser took Samaria 
after a siege of three years. Hezekiah was at 
that time in the seventh year of his reign over 
Judah. Hoshea was taken alive; the govern¬ 
ment of the Israelites was completely over¬ 
thrown; the people were transported into Assy¬ 
ria, Media, and Persia; and other nations, out 
of Cuthath, Ava, Hamath, and Sepharvaim, 
were brought into Samaria, and took possession 
of the country which had belonged to Israel. 
These are the Samaritans, against whom the 
Jews bore particular hatred, and who did not 
fail to return it: for when the Jews were in 
prosperity they were willing to be thought in 
some way allied to them, but in their adversity 
always disowned them. And thus they availed 
themselves of the favour which Alexander 
shewed the Jews when he visited them, and 
professed to descend from Ephraim and Ma- 
nasseh, the sons of Joseplr|\ Put so rooted and 
so permanent was their mutual enmity, that 
this opposition raged most furiously in the days 
of our Lord : so that the woman was surprised 


* Joseph. Antiq. Jud. lib. lx. cap. 14. See note 1, at the end of 
this Lecture. 

f See Joseph. Antiq. Jud. lib. xi. cap. 8. 





442 


that he “ being a Jew should ask water of her, 
“ who was a woman of Samaria;” and it is 
added, “ for the Jews have no dealings with the 
“ Samaritans; 1 ’ and we find one of their villages, 
on another occasion, refusing to receive the 
Saviour, “ because his face was as though he 

“ would go to Jerusalem.” 

The ostensible cause of this captivity was as 
follows: Iioshea, on an invasion of Samaria by 
Shalmaneser, in an early part of his reign, had 
bought him off by presents, and declared him¬ 
self to be the servant of the king of Assyria. On 
these humiliating terms Shalmaneser withdrew 
his armies from him, and Iioshea was permitted 
to hold the crown of Israel in subordination to 
him. After this compact between them, Ho- 
shea secretly conspired against him; and send¬ 
ing to So, king of Egypt, for assistance, with¬ 
held the annual tribute to Asyria, designing to 
shake off the yoke which Shalmaneser had im¬ 
posed. This monarch, termed So, in the words 
read at the commencement of this Lecture, is 
called Setho by Herodotus; and is the famous 
Sabachon of Diodorus Siculus, and of other 
profane writers, who dethroned and murdered 
Boccharis, the king of Egypt, in the beginning 
of the reign of Hezekiah, and seized upon the 
kingdom. Shalmaneser coming to the know¬ 
ledge of this conspiracy, advanced with a pow- 


443 


erful army against Hoshea, shut him up in 
Samaria, and afterwards took him, and the 
Israelites, captive. 

Of the existence, and the enterprising dis¬ 
position of Shalmaneser, we have the evidence 
of Menander the historian, when he wrote his 
chronology, and translated the Tyrian Chro¬ 
nicles into the Greek language. This is his 

o o 

testimony, preserved by Josephus—“ Eluleus 
“ reigned thirty-six years. This monarch, upon 
u the revolt of the Citteans, sailed against, and 
“ reduced them. Against these did the king 
“ of Assyria (Shalmaneser) send an army, and 
u ’ invaded all Phenicia. At length he made 
“ peace with them and returned. But Sidon, 
“ Ace, Palatyrus, and several other cities, re- 
“ volted from the Tyrians, and surrendered 
u themselves to the king of Assyria. Now when 
“ the Tyrians refused to submit to him, he re- 
“ newed the contest; and the Phenicians fur- 
“ nished him with sixty ships and eight hun- 
“ dred rowers. The Tyrians opposed him with 
“ twelve ships, dispersed his armament, and 
u took five hundred men prisoners. He renewed 
u the struggle, however, and placed a garrison 
i( over their rivers and aqueducts, to prevent 
“ them from drawing water; during which 
“ period the Tyrians sustained the seige, and 
^ drank the waters of the wells which they 


444 


“ digged upon this emergency*.'” This testi- 
timony is produced to shew that profane histo¬ 
rians confirm the character which the scriptures 
give of Shalmaneser; and it decidedly proves 
that he was formidable to all his neighbours. 

Who can read these narrations of blood-shed, 
without deploring the evil of falling into the 
hands of an unprincipled tyrant? The designs 
of God against Israel did not clear Shalmaneser 
from guilt. He was an instrument to bring 
about the purposes of Deity without his con¬ 
currence, and even without his knowledge, fie 
meant only to satiate his ambition at the ex¬ 
pense of the fortunes, the liberties, and the 
lives of his contemporaries; and his treatment of 
other nations, unconnected with the Israelites, 
demonstrates too clearly the tyranny of his dis¬ 
position. The history of man furnishes us with 
many a lamentable evidence, that he is not to 
be trusted with absolute power, that he grows 
intoxicated with it, and that possessing it, he 
plunges either himself or others into an abyss 
of ruin and misery. In proportion as he is fur¬ 
nished with the means to effect much, he does 
mischief; as those beasts of the forest are most 


* Menand. apud Joseph. Antiq. lib. ix. chap. 14. See note 2 at 
the end of this lecture^ 





445 


to be dreaded, which have the most strength 
united with their sanguinary dispositions. 
Where much power is possessed, much good 
might be done. How many thousands of hearts 
might one man make happy ! He might suppress 
the vicious, and strengthen the weak, and com¬ 
fort the sorrowful: he might be as God, dis¬ 
pensing peace, and joy, and order, around him 
in society. But, alas! he no sooner feels his 
exaltation than he grows giddy with it! He no 
longer recollects that he is himself a man, in 
the midst of those who are “ bone of his bone 
“ and flesh of his flesh.” Half the world must 
worship him: and the other half, who will not, 
must be visited with “ a rod of iron.” He va¬ 
lues not the soul of his brother: he cares not 
how many lives he expends to gratify his am¬ 
bition, his hatred, or his passions. Society 
groans under his tyranny, and the world is 
turned into a field of blood. See yonder unjust 
man, whose character will be read in his his¬ 
tory before we close this Lecture, setting up an 
image of gold, and commanding on pain of 
death a whole empire to worship it! What gave 
birth to this extravagance ? The intoxication of 
power! And are his threats merely the language 
of caprice and anger? No! but yonder are three 
men dragged to the fire to be burned, because 

O O 

they refuse to comply with a command, from 


446 


which their religion, their conscience, and 
every thing which they ought to hold most 
dear, revolt. That man might be a sun to 
quicken, to warm, and to illumine : but he is 
a meteor that scorches, terrifies, and blights, 
whatever falls under his baneful influence. 

How different is the character of the Deity! 
When I appear before a great man, his object 
often is to dazzle and to overwhelm me. He is 
anxious only that I should feel his greatness 
and my own inferiority. He clothes himself 
with all his power, and enjoys my embarrass¬ 
ment. No matter whether millions of people 
are made unhappy by his pride : he is careless 
whether he is loved, so that he is but feared. 
I turn away with horror and disgust from a man 
whose breath is in his nostrils, living but to 
confound and to torment, to Him in whom all 
majesty and might centre—and there I lose 
my apprehensions ! He, who rules above all, in 
the plenitude of power, who is King of Kings, 
and Lord of Lords, blends with infinite strength, 
illimitable compassion. The spirit that shrinks 
with dismay from the frowning;, forbiding 
aspect, of an imperious fellow-worm, is invited 
to the feet of his Creator, not more by the mild 
and affectionate language of scripture, than by 
the experience which he has had of his gracious 
character, in the mercies which he has person- 


447 

ally received at his hand. Mis majesty asto¬ 
nishes, but does not confound. Ilis glory daz- 
zles, but does not consume. His power fills the 
mind with awe, but does not overwhelm it with 
terror. Ah, David was right, when, in his 
great strait, he preferred falling into the hands 
of God, rather than into the hands of man; 
and the history of this night proves his wisdom. 
Yet did the Israelites choose a man before God, 
and elevated a creature to the throne previously 
filled only by the Creator! 

The most remarkable circumstance attending 
the captivity of Israel, is the loss of the 
ten tribes. We hear nothing more concern¬ 
ing them, excepting a few who returned with 
Judah and Benjamin from the Babylonish cap¬ 
tivity ; and the general opinion respecting them 
is, that they were absorbed in the nations among 
whom they were dispersed. Of this opinion 
are Josephus and St. Jerome. Others object, 
that their return from captivity appears to be 
plainly pointed out by Amos, and by Hosea. 
“ I will bring again the captivity of my people 
“ of Israel, and they shall build the waste ci- 
“ ties, and inhabit them; and they shall plant 
“ vineyards, and drink the wine thereof; they 
“ shall also make gardens, and eat the fruit of 
“ them. And I will plant them upon their 
“ land, and they shall be no more pulled up 


448 


u out of the land which I have given thenu 
<c saith the Lord thy God*.” Hosea also says, 
“ Then shall the children of Judah, and the 
“ children of Israel be gathered together, and 
“ appoint themselves one head, and they shall 
“ come up out of the land; for great shall be 
“ the day of Jezreelf.” The first of these pro¬ 
phecies relates to the (l rearing of the tabernacle 
“ of David,” which surely was done by Judah 
and Benjamin, and appears more decidedly to 
refer to them, since the ten tribes had disavowed 

anv connection with the house of David at the 
%/ 

time of their separation. Upon the answer re¬ 
turned by liehoboam, they replied to the king, 
“ What portion have we in David? Neither 
“ have we inheritance in the son of Jesse ! To 
“ your tents, O Israel! Now see to thine own 
“ house, DavidJ!” In the second, I confess, 
Judah and Israel are mentioned separately, yet 
conjointly, because of the co-operation ascribed 
to them. May we not suppose this prediction 
fulfilled in the return of the Levites, the rem¬ 
nant of Israel, who were brought from Babylon 
with the men of Judah and of Benjamin ? Who 


i 


* Amos ix. 14, lo. 
f Hosea i. 11. 

I 1 Kings xii. lt> 




449 


united with them under one leader, and who 
assisted,them in building the wall of Jerusalem? 
We leave the question to the decision of your 
own judgments. Indeed it does not immediately 
come before us as a subject of discussion; our 
professed object being simply to confirm the 
fact of the two captivities, and to relate the cir¬ 
cumstances attending them. There is no record 
of their return, there are no traces of their tribes, 
there is no evidence of their existence. Those 
who maintain that they are yet in being, ad¬ 
vance only an hypothesis incapable of demonstra¬ 
tion; and the most general conclusion upon the 
subject is, we believe, that they are wholly lost. 

The inferences which we deduce from this 
position are these: 

1. That the coming of the Messiah was the 
grand object of the Old Testament dispensation, 
and that the peculiarities of the Jews bore a 
manifest relation to him. To decide this, it is 
only necessary to observe, that from the time 
of: the promise made to Adam, the Saviour was 
the subject of all the engagements between God 
and man. The study of genealogies, and the 
strictness with which they were commanded to 
be kept, were enjoined, we may presume, that 
they might trace with certainty and decision, 
the line of the Messiah. The ceremonies of 
the Jewish religion were evidently types of 

G g 


450 


something: as they were expressly instituted 
by God, it must fallow that the antitype should 
be sublime, that these rites might be worthy 
their great Founder: and no meaning can 

be affixed to them, unless they be allowed to 

* 

refer to the life, the sufferings, and the atone¬ 
ment of the Lord Jesus. The prophecies at 
that early period, looked forwards to the Sa¬ 
viour : and they increased in clearness and in 
copiousness, as they approached the advent of 
the Messiah. The separation of the Jews from 
all other nations, was founded, we conceive, 
upon this same principle. Hence we infer 
2. That the very existence of the Jews de¬ 
pended upon their connection with the Saviour. 
Till the days of David the promises respecting 
the Messiah were of general import, that he 
should descend from Abraham. But then 
they became more explicit, and it was de¬ 
clared that Christ should be of the house of 
David. To the family of David, therefore, the 
promise was restricted. So long as they ad¬ 
hered to, and were connected with, the house 
of David, which was also the house of Jesus, 
they were separated with their brethren from 
the rest of mankind, and their existence was 
secured: but when they voluntarily resigned 
their interest in that house, and were severed 
from the two tribes, they were dispersed and 




451 

\ 

absorbed among the nations, and the few who 
returned from captivity lost their distinc¬ 
tion: they returned with Judah and Benjamin, 
and were swallowed up of their brethren. Now 
it is remarkable that individuals were supported 
in the same way. Lot, so long as he stands in 
union with Abraham, who was inseparably con¬ 
nected with the Messiah, is an object of im¬ 
portance : but once divided from him, we read 
little of him afterwards, and at length he to¬ 
tally vanishes out of our sight. Judah and 
Benjamin, who were of the house of David, 
were also led into captivity: but they were re¬ 
stored, because, of their connection with the 
Messiah : while Israel, having become separated 
from this great interest, were scattered and lost. 
These observations will not, we trust, be deem¬ 
ed altogether unimportant; as they prove the 
unity of the scriptures, and the connection be¬ 
tween the Old and the New Testaments. But 

t 

we hasten to fix your attention upon 


II. THE CAPTIVITY OF JUDAH. 

This captivity was commenced by Nebuchad¬ 
nezzar, and completed by his general, Nebu- 
zaradan. The interval between the first deso¬ 
lation of Jerusalem by the king of Babylon, 


452 


{fad it's total overthrow by his servant, was 
about twenty-two years. It was begun in the 
reign of Jehoiakim,, six hundred and six years 
before the coining of Christ. Nebuchadnezzar 
took the city in the ninth month, called Casleu, 
which answers to our November, and on the 
twelfth day of the month: which the Jews keep 
as an annual fast in commemoration of this 
event to this day*. Among the number of cap¬ 
tives taken from Jerusalem, were Daniel, Hana- 
liiah, Mishael, and Azariah: whom the Baby¬ 
lonians called, Belteshazzar, Shadrach, Meshach, 
and Abed-nego. The interval between the 
commencement, and the consummation, of the 
destruction of Jerusalem, is crowded with im¬ 
portant transactions, a few of which it may be 
necessary to mention. 

The reading of the roll before Jehoiakim, who 
was not rendered sensible of his wickedness by 
the first desolation of his country, excited the 
most infuriate emotions, and having first cut it 
in pieces with his own hand, he threw it into 
the fire. The Jews keep also the twenty-ninth 
day of Casleu a fast, in remembrance of the 


* See Prideaux’s Connec, Vol. I. b. 1. Anc. Univ. Hist. Yol. IVv 
b. 1. c. 7. note O. Usher sub. A. M. 3397. 




453 

impiety of the monarch, by whom this import¬ 
ant writing was consumed. 

In the seventh year of Jehoiakim, and the 
second after the death of the father of Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar, Daniel explained the iiifst vision of 
the king of Babylon, which elevated him to 
the highest dignities of the empire. 

r lhe other events recorded in the book of 
Daniel, to the expulsion of Nebuchadnezzar 
from society, followed in the order in which they 
are there narrated, and conduct us to the total 
overthrow of Jerusalem by Nebuzaradan, in the 
reign of Zedekiah which was accompanied 
with the most horrible circumstances of rigour 
and cruelty. The temple was spoiled of all it’s 
riches and furniture, and was burned, together 
with the royal palace. The slaughter was dread¬ 
ful : the city was totally dismantled: and the 
whole of it’s inhabitants, who escaped the 
sword, were led into captivity. This event 
took place in the year of the world 3/18, live 
hundred and eighty-eight years before Christ, 
and one hundred and thirty-four years after the 
destruction of the kingdom of Israel, and the 
captivity of the ten tribes. 

Nebuchadnezzar having at length sheathed 
the sword, applied himself to the completion of 
his works at Babylon. As it will be necessary 
to relate the siege of this city by Cyrus, which 

g g 3 


454 

terminated the captivity of Judah, it will be 
proper previously to give a short description of 
this wonderful place* The city stood upon an 
immense plain, and formed a complete square. 
The most remarkable works in, and about it, 
were the walls, the temple, the palace, the 
bridge and the banks of the river, and the ca¬ 
nals for draining it. 

1. The Walls. They were in thickness 
eighty-seven feet: in height three hundred 
and fifty: in compass four hundred and eighty 
furlongs, or about sixty miles. This is the ac¬ 
count given by Herodotus, the most ancient 
writer upon this subject, who was himself at 
Babylon. Each side of the city was defended 
by a wall fifteen miles in length. These walls 
were built of bricks, cemented with bitumen, a 
glutinous slime, resembling pitch, found in 
abundance in that country, which binds toge¬ 
ther much more firmly than lime, and in time 
becomes harder than the bricks or stones them¬ 
selves. They were surrounded by a vast moat 
filled with water. On every side of this im¬ 
mense square were twenty-five gates, amount¬ 
ing in all to one hundred, and as many bridges 
were thrown across the moat which encircled 
the citv. These °;ates were all made of solid 
brass; and for this reason, when God promised 
to Cyrus the conquest of Babylon, he said, that 


455 

foe would “ break before him, the gates of brass? 
At proper intervals towers were erected all along 
the walls, each of them about ten feet higher 
than the walls themselves. It seems, however, 
that this is to be understood only of those parts 
of the walls where towers were needful for de- 
fence: when three towers were between every 
two of the gates, and four at the four corners; 
but some parts of the walls being upon a mo¬ 
rass and inaccessible to an enemy, were not 
thus defended : and the whole number of the 
towers were two hundred and fifty. This eco¬ 
nomy destroying the symmetry of the city, the 
deficiency was afterwards supplied by Nitocris*. 
From the twenty-five gates on each side of the 
city were twenty-five streets extending in a 
straight line to the corresponding gates on the 
opposite side, directly intersecting each other 
at right angles: so that there were fifty streets, 
each of them fifteen miles long, dividing the 
whole city into six hundred and seventy-six 
squares, each square two miles and a quarter in 
circumference. The ground enclosed within 
these squares, was formed into gardens. 


* Anc. Univ. Hist. Vol. IV. b. 1, c. 9, p. 408 and 434, Dublin 
edit, 1745, 20 vol. 


Gg4 





456 


\ The next objects worthy attention were, 

2. The Bridge, and the Banks of the 
River. A branch of the Euphrates ran thro’ 
the centre of the city from north to south. On 
each side of the river were a quay, and an high 
wall built of brick and of bitumen, of the same 
thickness with the walls which surrounded the 
city. In these walls, over against every street 
that led to the river, were also gates of brass, 
and from them were descents by steps to the 
river. These brazen gates were always open 
in the day, and shut by night. The bridge 
thrown over it in the middle of the city, was a 
magnificent structure, a furlong in length, and 
thirty feet in breadth. Nor must we omit 

3. The Canals for draining the river. In 
the beginning of the summer, the sun melting 
the snows on the mountains of Armenia, a vast 
overflow of the Euphrates takes place in the 
months of June, July, and August. To prevent 
any damage to the city and it's inhabitants, at 
a considerable distance above the town, were 
cut two artificial canals, which turned the course 
of the waters into the Tigris before they reached 
Babylon. For additional security, two immense 
banks were raised on each side of the river. In 
order to form these mounds it was necessary to 
drain off the water; which was done by dig¬ 
ging a prodigious lake forty miles square, one 


437 

A . * ^ ^ 

hundred and sixty in circumference, and thirty- 
five feet deep. 

These are the wonders recorded by ancient 
writers, concerning Babylon ; and which almost 
exceed credibility, were it not that their testi¬ 
mony on this subject perfectly coincides with 
itself. Berosus, Magasthenes, and Abydenus, 
agree in ascribing these works to Nebuchad¬ 
nezzar*. 

4. The Palace, the Hanging Gardens, 
and the Temple, were respectively splendid 
and magnificent: but as they are not necessary 
to our subject, we wave a description of them. 
It is agreed by most historians, that the temple 
of Belus was built on the plan of the tower of 
Babel, and is by some supposed to be erected 
on it's ruins. Josephus says, that Babylon took 
it’s name from Babel, a word implying confu¬ 
sion, in commemoration of the confusion of 
language, and the dispersion of the peoplef* 
This temple was higher than the highest pyra- 


* For tliis, and a more enlarged account of Babylon, see Rollings 
Anc. Ilist. Vol. I. p. 188, Ac. Anc. Univ. Ilist. Vol. IV. b. 1 , c, 9. 
Prideaux’s Conncc. Vol. I. pt. i. b. ii. p. 133-148. Ilerod. 1. 1. c. 
i?8, Ac. 

f Josephus de Antiq. Jud, Tom. I, lib, i, cap. 4. Hudson! edit.. 




458 


mid of Egypt*. From the situation of Babylon, 
in a clear atmosphere, and a serene sky, toge¬ 
ther with the advantage of this immense eleva¬ 
tion, arose the superiority of the Chaldeans in 
astronomical studies. The description of this 
immense city, which has now been submitted 
to you, was necessary that you may understand 
the nature of those operations adopted by Cyrus 
in obtaining possession of it. 

We are not to wonder that the heart of Ne¬ 
buchadnezzar, the resistless conqueror, and the 
lord of Babylon, was inflated with pride. Where 
there is not a principle of religion to counter^ 
act the influence of human depravity, the power 
of a lofty spirit admits of no restraint. But 
“ pride is nigh unto destruction; and an 
u haughty spirit goeth before a fall.' 5 Nebu¬ 
chadnezzar ascribed to the power of his own 
arm, the glory and the majesty of his kingdom, 
and the Deity punished him, by driving him 
from human society. He would be a god, and he 
became less than a manf ! His humiliation had 
been predicted in a vision, explained to him 
by the prophet Daniel, a year before it took 


* For ft general description of it, see Anc. Univ. Hist. Vol. II. b. i. 
t. 9, and Vol. I. b. i. c. 2. Sec also note 3, at the end of this Lect 

feure. 

f Dan. iv. 29-33. 





459 

place*. The five following considerations may 

perhaps tend to confirm this event, as an histo¬ 
rical fact. 

1. It is circumstantially related in a decree 
which Nebuchadnezzar issued upon his restora¬ 
tion to his kingdom: which decree must have 
existed at the very time when the scriptural ac¬ 
count was written; admitting (which we may 
reasonably claim) that the event was recorded at 
the time which it asserts, and possesses the an¬ 
tiquity ascribed to the book of Daniel: there¬ 
fore imposition was impossible, and the attempt 
among contemporaries, would only have ex¬ 
posed the writer to derision. It is not the rela¬ 
tion of a transaction previous to his birth, which 
Daniel has written, but he was an eye-witness 
of the circumstance, an actor in the scene, and 
the whole Jewish nation, as well as the Baby¬ 
lonish empire, were concerned in it. 

52. Scaliger, thinks that this madness of Ne¬ 
buchadnezzar is obscurely hinted in a fragment 
of Abydenus, preserved by Eusebiusj~—wherein 
having, from the testimony of the Chaldean 
writers, represented the king to have fallen into 
an extasy, and to have foretold the destruction 


* Dan. iv. 4, ike. 

f Euseb. Frapp. Evang. lib. ix. cap. 


I 




460 

of that empire by the Medes and Persians, he 
adds—“ immediately after uttering this pro* 
“ phecy, he disappeared,” which Scaliger sup¬ 
poses refers to the deposition of his kingly 
authority, and to his exclusion from society. 

3. Herodotus speaks of his pride, and of his 
defiance even of divine power, in much the same 
terms as those used by the inspired writer. He 
says—“ such was his loftiness and presumption, 
“ that he boasted, it was not in the power of 
“ God himself to dispossess him of his king- 
“ dom, so securely did lie deem himself esta- 
“ blished in it>” 

4. Josephus asserts this event: and amid alt 
his numerous opposers, and their diversified 
objections, the relation of this fact by him was 
never disputed) .” 

5. By Ptolemy's canon, a contemporary re¬ 
cord, Nebuchadnezzar is said to have reigned 
forty-three years, eight of which are passed 
over in silence. His actions, as recounted both 
by sacred and profane historians, are so remark¬ 
able, and his spirit so enterprising, that it can 
scarcely be imagined that he should be inactive 
during eight years, or that his achievements 


* Ilerod. lib. 2. 

t Joseph, de Anjtiq. Judeor. Tom, I. lib. x. cap. 10. 






461 

in that period should be buried in oblivion. 
The conclusion is in favour of the record of 
Daniel, that he was excluded from society, for 
seven years, till he learned to acknowledge the 
hand which had made him great, and to ascribe 
all power to God*. Of the reign and the works 
of Nebuchadnezzar, Josephus has preserved the 
testimonies of Berosus, Megasthenes, Diodes, 
and Philostratus. 

Berosus, in the third book of his Chaldaic 
histories says—that “ his father died at Baby- 
“ Ion after having reigned twenty-one years: 
“ that Nebuchadnezzar was at that time absent 
“ in Egypt, but having received the intelli- 
“ genee of his father’s death, he arranged his 
“ affairs abroad, and committing the care and 
<£ transportation of the Jews, Syrians, Egyp- 
“ tians, and Phenicians, to his friends, to fol- 
“ low him with his army and carriages to Ba- 
“ bylon, he himself with a few men hastened 
“ thither, and took upon himself the govern- 
<( ment of the empire.” Again he adds, “ with 
“ the spoils of war, he most magnificently dc- 
“ corated the temple of Belus—he enlarged the 
(C old city—built within it a triple wall—erected 
“ a magnificent palace ? ’—and so he goes on to 


* See Prideaux's Connec, Vol. I. b, 1. in locum. 






462 


speak of the hanging gardens, and of his other 
operations. “ Megasthenes, in the fourth 
“ book of his Indian history, mentions this 
u garden, and asserts that Nebuchadnezzar 
“ surpassed Hercules in valour, and in the 
“ greatness of his exploits.” “ Diocles in th« 
u second book of the Persian history, and Phi- 
" lostratus, in his history of India and Phe- 
“ nicia, say that he besieged Tyre thirteen 
“ years, and took it in the reign of Ithobal*.” 

To Nebuchadnezzar succeeded Evil-Merodach, 
who set Jeehoniah at liberty and made him one 
of his friends. After a reign of vice and folly 
of two years, he was slain by the conspiracy of 
his own family. 

To him succeeded Neriglasser, who reigned 
only four years, and was slain in a battle against 
Cyrus. 

To him succeeded Belshazzar, with whose 
life the Babylonish captivity terminated. Cy¬ 
rus, conducted by an invisible hand, advanced 
gradually towards Babylon, and closely besieged 
it: while Belshazzar, or rather Nitocris the 
queen-mother (for the character of Belshazzar 
by all profane historians is, that he was wholly 


* Joseph, de Antiq. Jud. Tom. I. lib. x. cap. 11. Hudsoni edit. 
See also note 4, at the end of tins Lecture. 




463 

addicted to sensual pleasures, which is abun¬ 
dantly confirmed by the scriptural account) as 
strenuously fortified, and defended it. This 
conqueror surrounded the city with his army: 

V 

but the king of Babylon presuming upon it’s 
impregnable strength, and upon the magazine 
of provisions, which, without any fresh sup¬ 
plies, less than a ten years siege could not ex¬ 
haust, derided the efforts of his powerful ad¬ 
versary. In the mean time the besiegers encom¬ 
passed the city with a deep trench, keeping 
their purposes a profound secret; and Cyrus was 
informed of the feast which was about to be 
held in Babylon. Upon this night |ie deter¬ 
mined to suspend the fates of his army, and of 
the empire for which he fought. On this occa¬ 
sion of festivity, Belshazzar, with a bold im¬ 
piety at which his predecessors, proud and dar¬ 
ing as they were, would have shuddered, pro¬ 
faned the vessels of the temple of Jehovah. The 
apparition of an hand writing on the wall of 
the palace in unknown characters first excited 
the apprehensions of the king. In vain he 
called the astrologers and the magicians: in 
vain he alternately threatened and entreated 
them: they could neither read the writing, nor 
make known the interpretation. The sentence 
was written in Samaritan characters which the 
Chaldeans did not understand; and co*ld they 


464 


have decyphered these, they could not have ex¬ 
plained them. The words literally rendered are, 
“ He hath numbered, he hath numbered, he hath 
“ weighed, and they divide.” Daniel was sent for, 
and announced from them the immediate fall of 
his empire. While this was the state of things 
at the palace, Cyrus had drained the river into 
his moat, till it was fordable. Informed of the 
confusion which reigned in the city, he issued 
orders to his troops to enter it that very night 
at north and south, by marching up the chan¬ 
nel. They were commanded by two eminent 
officers, and advanced towards each other, with- 

4 

out suffering any impediment, till they met in 
the centre of the river. God, who had pro¬ 
mised to open before him the gates of brass, 
preceded them : otherwise this singular and ad¬ 
venturous expedition must have failed. Had 
the gates which closed the avenues leading to 
the river been shut, which was always the cus¬ 
tom at night, the whole scheme had been de¬ 
feated. But so was it ordered by Providence, 
that on this night of general riot and confusion, 
with unparalleled negligence, they were left open ! 
So that these troops penetrated the very heart 
of the city without opposition, and reached the 
palace before any alarm was given. The guards 
were immediately put to the sword—Belshazzar 


465 

slain—and the city taken almost without re¬ 
sistance. 

> 

Thus fell the Babylonish empire. Cyrus made 
a decree in favour of the Jews, which led to their 
restoration; and thus terminated the captivity 
of Judah, after a period of seventy years*. They 
returned to their country, and rebuilt their city 
and their temple : and while the young men 
shouted when the foundation was laid, the elders 
wept aloud because of it’s manifest inferiority 
to the magnificence of the former building: 
“ So that they could not discern the noise of 
“ the shout of joy, from the noise of the weep- 
“ ing of the people !” 

The history which has passed before you this 
night, discovers with what facility the Deity 
can dry up the streams of our enjoyment, and 
even cut off the supplies of our existence. He 
has only to speak the word, and a thousand in¬ 
struments spring up to execute the fierceness of 
his displeasure. He has only to give the com¬ 
mand, and the air which we breathe, becomes 
the vehicle of instantaneous death. Fire min¬ 
gles with the blast of the desert, and consumes 



* See note 5 , at the end of this Lecture, 





466 

t 

the vitals*. The pestilence c< walketh in dark- 
“ ness,” or flying through the slumbering city, 
shakes poison from it 7 s deadly pinions. He 
holds back the face of his sun, and the “ hea- 
“ vens are black with wind and rain,” a partial 
deluge covers the country, and the promise of 
the harvest is cut off. Or he commands his 
winds to scatter the clouds, to drive them to 
some more favoured land, and the corn, expect¬ 
ing in vain the early and the latter rain, withers 
and perishes. The earth is cleft with the heat, 
the herds die through lack of water, the sun¬ 
beam beats upon the man’s head, till lie faints, 
and his tongue cleaves to the roof of his mouth, 
and he is brought down “ to the dust of death.” 
The desolation sometimes suddenly arises. There 
is peace in the city: the harvest is swelling to 
maturity : every heart rejoices in the security 
of it’s comforts. A cloud rises in the east, 
and extends till it hides the sun at noomday. 
A noise is heard in the air, which covers “ every 
u face with blackness.” An army of locusts 
descends: and the land which was “ as the o*ar- 

O 

“ den of Eden before them, behind them is a 
c ‘ desolate wilderness.” Sometimes the same 
desolation is effected at a stroke by the earth¬ 
quake : at others, war thunders in the heart of 


* See note 6, at the end of this Lecture. 




467 

an empire, and blood runs down the streets of 
a city* 

The conduct of Nebuchadnezzar is fruitful 
also in instruction. We frequently see the worst 
of characters filling the most eminent situations, 
moving in the most exalted and the most splen¬ 
did spheres, ruling over powerful empires, ex¬ 
alting his throne above the stars of heaven: a 
luminary that dazzles the eyes of the princes 
of this world: a meteor that perplexes, con¬ 
founds, and terrifies the inhabitants of the 
earth. Nations bow down, one after another, 
to the iron yoke, till the whole world is sub¬ 
jected to him. Elevation of rank in society, is 
s so far from being bestowed upon the most wor¬ 
thy, and the most upright characters, that these 
situations, so full of danger, and which require 
so much wisdom, are frequently seized by vio¬ 
lence, obtained by birth, procured by partial 
favour, and are often permitted by Providence 
to be occupied by men, at once destitute of 
principle, and of religion the true source of 
principle. When we consider to whose hands 
the government of mighty empires has been 
committed: when we examine the history of 
the great monarch of Babylon: when we trace 
the sceptre of power, alternately under the con- 


* See note 7, at the end of this Lecture. 

h h 2 




468 


t.roul of Greece and of Rome, and read the 
lives of monsters, whose delight it was to tram¬ 
ple upon every social feeling, and to violate the 
rights of humanity, (to exclude modern history 
from our calculation) it must be confessed, and 
it is recorded in human blood, that in many in¬ 
stances “ the earth'’ has been “ given into the 
“ hand of the wicked.” 

But the power of the wicked is limited. c Hea- 
6 ven is above all yet.’ He who permits, can 
and does restrain the exertion of their power. 
To every thing there is a limit. The ocean has 
it’s boundaries over which it cannot pass. The 
winds are not suffered to rage with fury uncon- 
trouled. The planets, and even eccentric co¬ 
mets, have their prescribed orbits. The meteor 
has the point of it’s elevation, and the moment 
of it's fall, and of it's expiration, assigned it. 
And he who gave, can recall the power of the 
oppressor; and dreadful will be his responsi¬ 
bility for the abuse of it! 

When war is awakened, the judgments of 
God are abroad in the earth. Thus have we 
seen to-night a people distinguished for their 
religious privileges, for their prosperity, and for 
their separation from all other nations, devoted 
to destruction because of their transgressions. 
Let us learn, that whenever the sword is per¬ 
mitted to devour, it is to chastise the inhabit- 


469 

ants of the earth for their iniquity. War is 
horrible in it's nature, and in it ? s effects. It 
separates the dearest and the closest connec¬ 
tions of human nature. One battle renders 
thousands of wives, widows : thousands of 
children, fatherless: thousands of parents, child* 
less: thousands of spirits ruined beyond re¬ 
demption ! See, pressing into yonder slippery, 
empurpled field, throngs of all ages, seeking 
their own among the dead! In this disfigured 
countenance the child discerns with difficulty 
the features of his father. In that mangled 
body dwelt the spirit which was the prop and 
the glory of yonder silvery head, now bowed 
down over it in silent, unspeakable sorrow. 
There the widow washes the wounds of her 
husband with her tears. And how few of that 
dreadful list of slaughtered men were fit to die! 
Surely war was let loose upon the world as a 
curse, in the just anger of God. 

Let us seek therefore a better state of exist¬ 
ence. Let us deem it no longer an hardship, 
that we are “ pilgrims and strangers upon the 
“ earth:” but let us “ confess it” with cheer¬ 
fulness, and look for “ a city which hath foun- 
cc dations, whose builder and maker is God.” 
Let us turn away from the kingdoms of this 
world, laid open to the hand of violence, and 

ii h ? 


X 


470 

seek a shelter under the government of Deity, 
from all present, and from all future evil. Let 
us press forwards to his immediate presence, to 
live there in a state of rest, a state of holiness, 
a state of felicity, a state of permanency, a state 
of immutability! 




i 


NOTES. 


Note 1.—Calculation of Josephus respecting the era of the cap¬ 
tivity of Israel—noticed, and translated, in page 441, of the pre¬ 
ceding Lecture. 

M sruxitrav iiv at hxx Qvt.av ruv lagarAiruv lx. rvq I a^xtxq ptrd 
Irani x^pbv Ivxxocrtuv retrax^xxovlx bt/Jx, dtp’ I ygova r\v A'lyvtrloy 
l^e^Bovleq dvruv oi 7r^byovoi rriv^B xarlayov rr,v yugav* airo algarrj- 
y&vroq Ivjad Iruv bxrxxoAuv. dp’ a diroxixvnq dno Po£odft,& rS 
Axhtos inuvd rr,v fixaihstxv Ib^oQox[j.u Tcx^ocravy uq fxov xd\. ngbre- 
%ov b'c^hulxi, etij ejlt b'txxocnx rtaaa.^xxov\x y [/.yveq IttIx, ypegai 
£7r1x, 

Jos. de Antiq. Jud. Tom. I. lib. ix. cap. 14. Hudsoni edit. 

Note 2.—Testimony of Menander to the character and acts of 
Shalmaneser, preserved in Josephus, and translated in page 444, of 
the preceding Lecture. 

K xi E Xdhafoq c,vof/.x iGxatXevtTBv Irv) r^xxovrx t%. droq, dvroxldv- 
ruv Kirlaiuv, dvaTcXivaaq, vrgotrnyxyelo xbrbq %d\m. vrn rxrsq weix- 
\xq o ruv Aaav^tuv Qaafaevq, £7ryX$e Qomxyv tcoXb/xuv xttxxxv. oq 
rvq arrevax^evoq elpvvtjv, fxsrd vravluv avsyu^crev bnctau. u7realv) re 
T vgtuv ’Eicluv xxi Axyi xxv 'h •jtx'Kxi T vgoq, xdi ttoXXxi aTAai ttoAe^j 
at ru ruv Axxv^iuv eavroq ^xinXeT rrx^oa-xv. (S’io Tvgtuv ay vyrora- 
yevruv rcahw o fixatfavq \tt xvrdq utteV^e-vJ/e, Qoivixcov c tv[x7T^yi^u<7xv- 
ruv xvru vavq e%r,xovrx, xat E'jrw.u'iraq bxrxxoateq. xlq Ittu rXevtrxvreq 
«» Tugioi vxvai frexa^vo, ruv vbuv ruv dvrnra\uv bLxcTTrageKruv, \x^x- 
odvacnv alyp.xhur8q dvfyaq eiq 7revrxxo,crtd<;. t7rerd&w &y) ttuvIuv Iv 

h h 4 




472 


NOTES, 


Tvgti Tip?] oix Txlrx. xvx£ev$xg & o tuv Acrtrv^iuiv (3xxihsvg xxTif- 
tyjite (pv\xxxg It) rS ToTxpu xou t uv vfyxyuyiuv, ov hxxvXvxucn 
Tvfiyg apii txxBxi" xou tSto etixi tevte yivofjt.iv or, Ixx^ti^txv wt- 
vovltg lx (pgixluv ogvxruv. 

Jos. Antiq. Jud. Tom . I. lib. ix. cap. 14. Hudsoni edit. 

Note 3. — The following description of the temple of Belus is ex¬ 
tracted from the writers of the Ancient Universal History, Vol. I, 
hook i. chap. 2, page 417. Dublin edit. 1745. It is necessary to 
mention the edition when a reference is made to the page, because 
there are several editions which differ materially in this respect. 1 his 
passage refers to page 453, of the preceding Lecture. 

“ Herodotus tells us, it was a furlong in length, and as much in 
tc breadth f and Strabo determines the height to have been a furlong, 
u that is, the eighth part of a mile, or six hundred and sixty feet, 
“ which is itself prodigious; for thereby it appears to have exceeded 
<( the greatest of the Egyptian pyramids in height, one hundred and 
* { seventy-nine feet, though it fell short of it at the base by thirty- 
il three. It consisted of eight square towers one above another, gra- 
‘ f dually decreasing in breadth ; which, with the winding of the stairs 
‘‘ from the top to the bottom on the outside, gave it the resemblance 
tl of a pyramid, as Strabo calls it. This antique form, joined to the 
“ extraordinary height of the structure, easily induces us to believe 
“ it to be the same tower mentioned by Moses; Nebuchadnezzar 
4i finishing the design, which the sons of Noah were obliged, by the 
41 confusion of tongues, to leave unexecuted.” And again they add 
in a note: 11 The words of Herodotus are: ’Ev pi\au 2e t ov Igv irv^yog 
* crlsgzug ovxooofxYtrxv, crlxo m xxi to pnxog xaa to evgog y xxi bti tutu tuj 
il Tvgyu u^hog Tvgyog ethCe^ke, y.ai iTi^og pdt\x tor) tbtu, bu 

“ ox tu> Trlpyodv. In the midst of the temple a solid tower is built , of a 
il furlong in length and as much in breadth ; and upon this tower ano~ 
lt ther tower is erected , and another again upon that , and so on to 
tl the number of eight towers. It is true, the word pyxog which we 
te here translate length , may also signify height : but some authors 
* ( having thence supposed, as the construction seems to require, 
“ that the first tower was a furlong high, and concluding the other 
(> srven to be of equal height, have made the whole a mile high; tQ 


NOTES. 


473 


u avoid which extravagant consequence, it seems more reasonable to 
understand Herodotus as we have rendered the passage, unless the 
u furlong be taken for the height of all the eight towers.” And it 
appears to me that the construction of the passage will not allow this 
last conclusion : for whether the word gmyog be rendered height or 
lengthy it evidently refers to th e first tower ; and it is expressly said 
that “ another was built upon this”—and so on. I conclude, therefore, 
that these words of Herodotus refer to it’s length, and it’s breadth^ 
without adverting at all to it’s height, which Strabo says was also a 
furlong. According to this last mentioned author it was exactly a 
furlong every way. 


Note 4.—Testimonies of Berosus, Megasthenes, Diodes, and 
Philostratus, respecting the reign, the exploits, anJ the works of 
Nebuchadnezzar, preserved in Josephus, and translated in page 462, 
of the preceding Lecture. 

T u 5s rut Na£yp£o5ovocr&£<y (TvvtQviy y.ccr avrlv rov xougov 

uppucAvauvriy Iv rn BaJoiA&m uv ttoAei //.sTaAAafat rov filov, try {3ucrih£v~ 
cram AxoaUv. alcrSo/xevog Si ^iet’ e ttoXvv %govov ryv tb rrargog rt- 
fcvrnv NaCa;^o5ovocrogy, yea yctruaiyeug roe xccrcc ty,v A’lyvTrlov 'Tf^ciy- 
pooroo y.cei tyiv hoiorY,v p^w^ay, you rh<; alxfxceXureg leSutuv te you 
fyoivlxuv yea Yvguv you T uv xurcc rnv A’lyvTrlov itivuvy you ervyra%ecg 
'fieri ruv (p'iXcJV p£rce rng fiecgvlalrjg Svvceptug you rng XonTrig u(pz\i\ug 
uvceyopl^Eiv Ag rnv B uGvhuviocv, uvrog b^pjaug oXiyoJlog Siu rng 

'ifu^yivtro Ag B uQvXuvx. --And again, A vrog S’vo to t uv Ik 

ye iroXlpe Xx^v^uv to, te re B>jAy Iz^ov you rx Xoittx y.oupnaug $1X0- 
rlpug, ty>v te i'jruQxeauv l| a^??? voXiv, £T eguv xx^iaapevogy & r C. 

&c..„Such is the language of Berosus. Then for the others, 
Josephus adds —Kat M zyuoSswig SI eu rn rzru^rn ruv IvSixZv 
y.vv)fxovivei uvruv y Si ng uttoQuiveiv ttu^oLtcu rerov rov (3xaiXiu rn 

uvS^sloe you tw fXEysQ it ruv TfQxt'zuv vTTB^&Yixbru rov HgxyXex.- -- 

Kat AioxArJs Si Iv rn Szvrs^x ruv riE^cnxwy pvripovzvzi rare re ffxai- 
Xlug' you ^iXoal^xrog Iv rxTg \vSiyoug uvre yea Qoivr/.ixaig ialogicag, 
on ereg o fixaiXivg £7roXtb^yrj<T£ Tvgov I'm iy. (SucnXzvovrog yur exeo'ov 
jov ycciQov I$o£aAa mg Tc^a. 

Joseph. Antiq. Jud. Tom. I, lib. x. cap. xi.p. 459, 460, Hudsoni edit. 




i 


474 NOTES. 

Note 5.—Seventy years bad been predicted as the term of the 
captivity of Judah. Some have computed from the fourth year of 
Jehoiakim to the first issuing of Cyrus’ decree. Others Yrora the 
destruction of Jerusalem to the publication of Darius’ decree, in 
the fourth year of his reign. The discussion of this point is imma¬ 
terial : since either way seventy years were accomplished. 

The writers of the Ancient Univ. Hist, date it from the first 
taking of the city in the reign of Jehoiakim, and they say, in a 
note, “ This Usher proves to have happened in the ninth month, 
from the anniversary fast, which the Jews have kept ever since in 
tc memory of that calamity. This is the more worth observing, be- 
tl came the seventy years captivity , foretold, by Jeremiah, must be 
reckoned from this epochal —Confirmation of page 465, of the 
preceding Lecture. 

Note 6.—The following description of the Simoom is given in 
Bruce’s Travels, Voi. 6, p. 461, 462. Edinburgh 8vo. edit, of 1804. 
He says, “ that an extreme redness in the air was a sure presage of 
“ the coming of the simoom.” And his conductor through the desert 
warned him and his servants “ that upon the coming of the simoom” 
they “ should fall upon their faces, with their mouths upon the earth, 
u so as not to partake of the outward air, as long as they could hold 
“ their breath.” And he thus describes it’s fearful approach and 
effects. “ At eleven o’clock, while we contemplated with great plea- 
“ sure the rugged top of Chiggre, to which we were fast approach- 
u ing, and where we were to solace ourselves with plenty of good 
“ water, Idris cried out with a loud voice, Fall upon your faces, 
“ for here is the simoom ! I saw from the south-east a haze come, in 
“ colour like the purple part of the rainbow, but not so compressed 
“ or thick. It did not occupy twenty yards in breadth, and was 
<l about twelve feet high from the ground. It was a kind of blush 
“ upon the air, and it moved very rapidly, for I scarce could turn 
“ to fall upon the ground with my head to the northward, when I 
“ felt the heat of it’s current plainly upon my face. We all lay flat 
upon the ground, as if dead, till Idris told us it was blown over. 
u The meteor, or purple haze, which I saw, was indeed passed, but 
“ the/light air that still blew was of heat to threaten suffocation. 

M For my part, I found distinctly in my breast that I had imbibccj 


NOTES. 


4 75 


“ a part of it, nor was I free of an asthmatic sensation till I had 
u been some months in Italy, at the baths of Poretta, near two years 
<e afterwards.” 

This extract illustrates the remark in page 466, of the preceding 
Lecture. 

Note 7. —We do not sufficiently consider under whose direction 
are the desolations of the earth, and by whose permission the 
hero conquers. Jeremiah awfully unveils the cause of Judah’s and 
Israel’s calamities, when he says, “ The Lord was an enemy: he 
“ hath swallowed up Israel, he hath swallowed up all her palaces: 
“ he hath destroyed his strong holds, and hath increased in the 
“ daughter of Judah mourning and lamentation. And he hath vio- 
u lently taken away his tabernacle, as if it were of a garden, he hath 
il destroyed his places of the assembly : the Lord hath caused the 
“ solemn feasts and sabbaths to be forgotten in Zion, and hath de- 
“ spised in the indignation of his anger the king and the priest.” 

Lamentations ii. 5, 6. 

And this reminds me of a most beautiful passage in Virgil, in 
which the poet represents the deities engaged in the subversion of 
Troy. 

Hie ubi disjectas moles, avulsaque saxis 
Saxa vides, mistoque undantem pulvere fumum, 

Neptunus muros, magnoque eraota tridenti 
Fundamenta quatit, totamque a sedibus urbem 
Eruit. Ilic Juno Scseas ssevissima portas 
Prima tenet, sociumque furens a navibus agmen 
Ferro accincta vocat. 

Jam summas arces Tritonia, respice, Pallas 
Insedit, nimbo effulgens, et Gorgone saeva. 

Ipse Pater Danais animos, viresque secundas 
Sufficit, ipse Deos in Dardana suscitat arma. 

Virg. JEneid. lib. ii. V. 609-619. 

11 Here, where you behold bulwarks cast down, and stones rent from 
t( stones, and waving smoke mingling with dust f Neptune shakes the 
“ walls, and the heaving foundations, with his great trident, and over - 
« throws the whole city from it's bases. There, Juno, the most inexorable, 


NOTES. 


4/6 

tc occupies the Sc wan gates, and girded with a szcord, calls the raging 
a army of the allies from their ships. Then behold Trilonian Pallas 
u sits upon the highest citadels, effulgent on a cloud, and with her ter 
“ rible cegis. Jupiter himself supplies courage, and renewed forces , 
“ to the Grecians; himself stirs zip the gods against the Trojan 
* l arms!” 

This note relates to page 467, of the preceding Lecture, 



477 


LECTURE XIL 

THE LIFE, DEATH, RESURRECTION, AND 
ASCENSION OF JESUS CHRIST, PROVED 
AS MATTERS OF FACT. 


LUKE II. 1 — 7 . 

And it came to pass in those days , that there went 
out a decree from Cesar Augustus , that all the 
world should he taxed . (And this taxing was 

first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) 
And all went to be taxed , every one into his own 
city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee , 
out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea,, unto 
the city of David , which is called Bethlehem , 
(because he was of the house and lineage of Da¬ 
vid :) to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife , 
being great with child. And so it was, that 
• while they were there , the days were accom¬ 
plished that she should be delivered. And she 
brought forth her first-born son , and wrapped 




478 

him in swaddling-clothes, and laid him in a 
manger, because there was no room for them in 
the inn. 


1 cor. xv. 3—8. 

i 

For I delivered unto you first of all, that which I 
also received, how that Christ died for our sins 
according to the scriptures: and that he was 
buried, and that he rose again the third day ac¬ 
cording to the scriptures: And that he was seen 
of Cephas, then of the twelve . After that, he 
was seen of above five hundred brethren at once: 
of whom the greater part remain unto this pre¬ 
sent, but some are fallen asleep. After that, he 
was seen of James; then of all the apostles . 
And last of all he was seen of me also, as of 
one born out of due time. 


Q peter i. ]6. 

For wc have not follozced cunningly devised fables, 
when we made known unto you the power and 
coming of our Lord Jesus Christ , but were eye¬ 
witnesses of his majesty. 


1 IIEPvE is a certain degree of sublimity in 
which we feel gratified, and the emotions which 


479 

it excites are pleasing as well as awful: but be¬ 
yond that—the sensation becomes painful and 
oppressive. As my eye explores the azure vault 
ot heaven, I contemplate with solemn delight 
worlds moving there, suspended without any 
known or visible support: yet I should tremble 
if a rock ot ice, which would be but as a grain 
of sand in comparison of these, hung over my 
head. Ihe reason why I feel no terror in be¬ 
holding bodies so immense quivering upon no¬ 
thing is, that they are too remote to excite 
apprehension, and distance has so diminished 
them, that I lose the conception of their mag¬ 
nitude. I gaze with pleasure upon the proud 
elevation of the lofty mountain, as I stand at 
it s foot: but I shudder to approach the brink 
of a precipice of equal depth : the one excites 
in me an impression of the sublime—the other 
appears to risque my personal safety. So nearly 
allied are the emotions of sublimity and terror, 
that the one sometimes rises into the other ! An 
earthly monarch does well to borrow all possible 
splendour, and to array himself in all the en¬ 
signs of royalty, in order to impress the spec¬ 
tator with an idea of majesty : and scarcely are 
we impressed after all! We see humanity tot¬ 
tering under that weighty grandeur, and feel 
that we are in the presence of but a man. The 
Majesty of heaven needs no such appendages. 


480 


Decked in his mildest radiance, no mortal vi¬ 
sion could endure the insufferable splendour ; 
and we have seen him, when all ideas of sub¬ 
limity were absorbed and lost in the stronger 
emotions of terror. We can only behold him 
at a distance without fear: whenever he ap¬ 
proaches us, whatever veil he may spread over 
his uncreated glory, we are overwhelmed with 
the presence of Deity. 

We cannot contemplate God in any point of 
view, through the medium of revelation, with¬ 
out being sensible of his perfections. If his 
mercy speak in whispers, soft as the breath of 
the morning, or grateful as the gale fanned by 
the wings of the evening, every passion sinks 
to rest, every tumultuous feeling subsides, and 
we are lost in wonder, in love, in ecstasy. If 
his justice thunder in the heavens, the commo¬ 
tions of listening nations are suspended: and 
men, and angels acknowledge, in silent awe, the 
justice of his dispensations. In making requi¬ 
sition for sin, and requiring it’s expiation by 
blood, his conduct may be inexplicable to our 
present imperfect apprehensions; nevertheless 
we are assured, that u it became Him, for whom 
“ are all things, and by whom are all things, 
,£ in bringing many sons unto glory, to make 
“ the captain of their salvation perfect through 
“ suffering.” O how unlike is He to the most 


481 


perfect of human characters! The wisdom of 
Solomon yielded to the strength of seduction: 
the piety of David, to the force of temptation; 
the integrity of Abraham, to the impressions of 
terror: and there never appeared on the face of 
the earth a perfect character, till “ the Word 
“ was made flesh and dwelt among us.” But 
Deity is always equal to himself-—and appears 
alike great in terror and in mildness, in mercy 
and in judgment, in pardoning and in punish- 
ing. 

We have lately seen him in the thunder and the 
lightning of Sinai: we are now to contemplate 
him in the stillness and the tranquillity of Cal¬ 
vary. In this latter form he is more endeared to 
us, as sinners saved by grace : but he is equally 
great in both. The righteous law, which was 
pronounced with an audible voice, out of “ the 
“ thick darkness where God was,” is a beautiful 
transcript of the purity of his nature: and the 
melancholy scenes of Calvary present a fine 
illustration of the harmony of his perfections. 
The first dispensation was temporary: the types, 
which were the shadows only of good things to 
come, have disappeared: the ceremonial law 
waxed old; and it’s institutions, having received 
their accomplishment, vanished. A new and 
immutable dispensation, more simple, more spi¬ 
ritual, more enlarged in it’s nature, followed: 


we still repose under it's shadow; and it looks 
forwards to eternity for it’s fulness, its glory, 
and it's completion. 

In reviewing years which are passed by, we 
are necessarily involved in difficulties. The de¬ 
stroying hand of time obliterates many a page 
of history: and the more remote the age to 
which our attention is directed, the more op¬ 
pressively heavy hangs the cloud of oblivion 
over it. We have surmounted the larger por¬ 
tion of these difficulties; and as we return to 
later generations, the cloud slowly rolls away. 
We have gradually advanced from obscurity to 
the dawn of the morning—we have seen the 
gates of light open upon us—and darkness has 
reluctantly yielded, to the rising radiance of 
that dav. which is now hastening to it's meri- 

4 1 ' O 

dian. 

The subject of the present Lecture is, The 
Life, Death, Resurrection, and Ascen¬ 
sion of Jesus Christ, proved as matters 
of fact. 

We are not now to relate facts which took 
place at the infancy of time, in some remote 
empire, long since dismembered, and it’s very 
name consigned over to oblivion: but the events 
which we defend transpired under the imme¬ 
diate sway of imperial Rome, at the zenith of 
her power, and w T hen her dominions comprc- 


483 

bended half the globe. Her standard had been 
planted in remotest Asia: her emperors be¬ 
stowed or displaced the diadems of neighbour¬ 
ing states at their pleasure: her eagles had 
stretched their wings over the sea, and alighted 
upon the Helds of Britain, then esteemed and 
denominated “ the ends of the earthand 
while polished nations endured her yoke, the 
savage barbarian trembled at her name in the 
inaccessible wilds of his native forest, and the 
sons of the north fled to their cloud-encom¬ 
passed mountains, and crouched concealed amid 
the mists which crept along their summits. 

It is singular that, at this period, the whole 
world were in expectation of some grand and 
impending event. Not only were the descend¬ 
ants of Abraham looking for the “ Desire of all 
“ nations,” but a general tradition was in circu¬ 
lation, and a general impression prevailed, that 
some extraordinary personage was about to 
make his appearance. This is not hinted ob¬ 
scurely, but the expectation is stated openly 
and fairly, by many of the most considerable 
writers of that age, both poets and historians. 
Suetonius*, and Tacitusf, had stated a common 


* Suetonius in Vespasiano, cap. 4. 
f Tacitus, Histor. lib. v. cap. IS. 

li 2 





484 


opinion that “ the East should prevail.” To this 
extraordinary expectation, awakened and kept 
alive, we may reasonably impute the journey of 
the Magi, whose curiosity had been excited by 
the appearance of an unknown star, differing 
in motion, and in all other respects, from the 
orbs which ordinarily revolve in the heavens. 
Of this, however, we shall feel it our duty to 
speak more at large hereafter. As a confirma¬ 
tion of our assertion, respecting the sentiments 
entertained at that singular period, we cannot 
resist the inclination which we feel, to translate 
a part of the most celebrated eclogue of Virgil, 
which he calls Pollio—beyond comparison the 
most elegant, and deservedly the most admired 
production of all antiquity. It was written 
about forty years before the birth of our Saviour. 
It was composed probably to compliment Mar- 
cellus, the nephew of Augustus by Octavia; 
but we trust that you will perceive parts in it, 
which can be strictly applicable to no mortal 
reign, however glorious : you will deem it pro¬ 
bable that he has borrowed his most sublime 
images from the prophecies, with which he 
might be acquainted through the medium of 
the Greek translation; and the whole is a spe¬ 
cimen of the general expectation of the world, 
just previous to the advent of our Lord. 


485 


“ Sicilian Muses, let us attempt more exalted 
“ strains ! The last era foretold in Cumccan 
verse is already arrived. The grand series 
“ of revolving ages commences anew. Now a 
“ new progeny is sent down from lofty heaven. 
“ Be propitious, chaste Lucina, to the infant 
“ boy — by him the iron years shall close, 
“ and the golden age shall arise upon all the 
“ world. Under thy consular sway, Pollio, 
■ e shall this glory of the age make his entrance, 
“ and the great months begin their revolutions. 
u Should any vestiges of guilt remain, swept 
“ away under thy direction, the earth shall be 
“ released from fear for ever; and with his Fa- 
“ ther’s virtues shall he rule the tranquil world. 
“ The earth shall pour before thee, sweet boy, 
“ without culture, her smiling first fruits. The 
“ timid herds shall not be afraid of the large, 
“ fierce lions. The venomous asp shall expire, 
“ and the deadly, poisonous plant, shall wither. 
“ The fields shall become yellow with golden 
“ ears of corn: the blushing grape shall hang 
“ upon the wild bramble; and the stubborn oak 

“ shall distil soft, dewy honey.--Yet still 

“ shall some vestiges of pristine vice remain : 
“ which shall cause the sea to be ploughed with 
“ ships—towns to be besieged—and the face of 
“ the earth to be wounded with furrows.—New 
“ wars shall arise—new heroes be sent to the 

i i 3 



486 


“ battle-But when thy maturity is come, 

“ every land shall produce all necessary things, 
“ and commerce shall cease. The ground shall 
“ not endure the harrow, nor shall the vine 
“ need the pruning-hook. As they wove their 
“ thread, the Destinies sang this strain— 4 Roil 
“ ‘ on, ye years of felicity!’—Bright offspring 
“ of the Gods! thou great increase of Jove! 
“ advance to thy distinguished honours! for 
“ now the time approaches ! Behold, the vast 
“ globe, with it's ponderous convexity, bows to 
<( thee!—the lands—the expansive seas—the 
“ sublime heavens ! See, how all tilings rejoice 
“ in this advancing era! Oh! that the closing 
“ scenes of a long life may yet hold out, and 
“ so much fire remain, as shall enable me to 
“ celebrate thy deeds*!” 

So sublimely sang the Roman bard: but 
Isaiah struck a deeper chord, and in strains still 
more elevated announced the coming Saviour. 
“ Righteousness shall be the girdle of his loins, 
“ and faithfulness the girdle of his reins. The 
“ wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the 
“ leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the 
“ calf, and the young lion, and the fatling to- 
“ gether, and a little child shall lead them. And 


* See note i, at the end of this Lecture. 









487 

the cow and the bear shall feed, their young 
“ ones shall lie down together: and the lion 
“ shall eat straw like the ox. And the sucking 
child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the 
weaned child shall put his hand on the cock- 
“ atrice-den. They shall not hurt, nor destroy, 
in all my holy mountain : for the earth shall 
“ be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the 
“ waters cover the sea # ." “ For ye shall o*o 

4/ O 

“ out with joy, and be led forth with peace : 
“ the mountains and the hills shall break forth 
“ before you into singing, and all the trees of 
fC the field shall clap their hands. Instead of 
“ the thorn shall come up the fir-tree, and 
“ instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle- 
“ treef.” 

Nor was the state of the world at that period 
less singular, than were the expectations of the 
different nations. The bloody portal of war 
was closed: the gates of the temple of Janus, 
always open in a time of contest, were shut: 
the commotions of all empires had subsided; 
and the whole earth enjoyed a profound tran¬ 
quillity, propitious to the Saviours mild and 
peaceful sway, and characteristic of it. This 
was the fifth time that these gates had been 


f Is. lv. 12, 13. 

i i 4 


* Ip. xi. 5-9. 




488 


closed from the foundation of the city of Rome; 
and the peace, which was universal, continued 
without interruption for twelve years. 

Augustus, at this time, had issued a decree, 
that all persons under the Roman dominion 
should be registered, according to their respec¬ 
tive provinces, cities, and families. Joseph and 
Mary, on this occasion, were called to the city 
of David, from their obscure village, to which, 
as being of his lineage, they originally belonged, 
that they might be registered among those who 
were of the same family. And thus the mighty 
monarch of the Roman empire, was induced by 
an invisible power, whom he knew not, whom 
he served not, to enact a novel and general de¬ 
cree, to bring from their obscurity a poor, un¬ 
known family; that he who came too humbly 
to be acknowledged, might not lose an iota of 
evidence to his character and to his mission ; 
and that the prophecies should be fulfilled, 
which had asserted that “ the ruler of Israel" 
should come out of “ Bethlehem T 

A variety of conjectures have been formed re¬ 
specting this tax. Some have asserted*, others 
have denied')', an universal enrolment. It is 


* Prkleaux’s Conncc. Vol. IV. pt. ii. b. ix. 
t Lardner—Cred. Vol. II. c. 1. 




\ 


489 

not necessary indeed that any other taxation, 
than that of Judea, should be supposed, which 
will account for the silence of ancient historians 
upon the subject.—The original word* does not 
necessarily imply “ all the world,” but may be 
rendered “ all the land”—referring to the whole 
of Israel, and comprehending those parts which 
had been dismembered from the body, and dis¬ 
tributed among the descendants of Herod the 
Great; and Galilee the country of Joseph 
among them. It may be necessary also to ob¬ 
serve, that we are not to take the term “ tax” 
in the sense usually affixed to it: a duty levied 
upon the people: for it simply implies here a 
register , or enrolment. It should also be re¬ 
membered, that Herod, although called king 
of Judea, was dependent upon the Roman em¬ 
peror, and tributary to him : consequently, such 
an enrolment might be made, in virtue of a 
decree of Augustus, and yet be deemed no 
infringement upon the rights of these subordi¬ 
nate rulers. Josephus speaks of an oath of 
allegiance to Herod and to Augustus, which 
his countrymen took about this time; and it is 
more than probable, that he means the same 
thing with that which Luke states under the 










■ 490 

denomination of a register. The time of this 
enrolment is stated to be when “ Cyrenius was 
“ governor of Syria*." 

Upon this occasion came Joseph and Mary to 
Bethlehem. The immense conflux of people 
had filled all the inns, and all the houses of 
public reception; so that they were compelled 
to lodge in a stable, where the mother of Jesus 
was delivered of the Saviour of the world! The 
inns of the East, at this day, are large square 
buildings, usually only one story high, with a 
spacious court in the centre of them. Into this 
court you enter through a wide gate, and on 
the right and left hand, you perceive rooms 
that are appointed as lodgings for travellers. 
Those that come first take the rooms which 
they prefer : but must provide themselves both 
with a couch and provision: for the rooms are 
perfectly naked, and contain no sort of furni¬ 
ture whatever. 

“ My kingdom is not of this world,” said the 
Saviour: and he spake a truth capable of many 
and decisive evidences. His very entrance into 
the world announced it. It would ill have be- 


* In Lardner's Cred. Vol. H. c. 1. the render may find an in¬ 
exhaustible fund of criticism and sound learning, upon this circum*- 
stance. 







491 

come him, who was to converse with every pos¬ 
sible scene of misery, to have made his appear¬ 
ance amid the shouts of thousands prostrate be¬ 
fore him. No palace supported by columns of 
marble, and perfumed with the incense of Ara¬ 
bia, sheltered his holy head. No vestments of 
purple interwoven with gold, shaded his tender 
limbs. No bending attendants received the 
weeping babe from his mother’s arms. No 
trumpet was blown through the regions of Ju¬ 
dea to declare the birth of “ the King of the 
“ Jews,” or to announce the expectations of 
the heir to the throne of David. The world 

• i 

frowned upon him from the beginning. Poverty 
was the handmaid who waited upon him at his 
birth, as scorn followed him through all his 
days. The Saviour and the brute reposed under 
one common roof, and were driven to the same 
shed. Even then, when he first opened his 
eyes upon the light, their meek intelligence 
seemed to say, “ My kingdom is not of this 
“ world!” 

Yet was he not destitute of honour. Heaven 
acknowledged the sovereign whom man re¬ 
jected. When the First-begotten was brought 
into the world it was said, “ Let all the angels 
“ of God worship him.” They hastened to an¬ 
nounce the “ glad tidings” to “ shepherds keep- 
44 ing watch over their flocks at night.” They 


4 92 

sang, “ Glory to God in the highest, on earth 
“ peace, good will to men/’ They became the 
first preachers of the gospel. On that memora¬ 
ble night, amid their “ constellations,” they 
proclaimed the event, 

-“ As earth asleep, unconscious lay, 

“ And struck their spangled lyres!” 

Nor is this relation more remarkable than 
that which follows, and which is well attested 
by the authority of other writers. Strangers 
from the East, of no nlean lineage, and of no 
mean attainments, came enquiring, “ Where is 
“ he who is born King of the Jews? for we 
“ have seen his star in the East, arid are come 
“ to worship him.” A few enquiries are neces¬ 
sary in order to illustrate and to establish this 
fact. 

1. Who were these strangers? They are 
called “ wise men,” or Magi*. Some have 
thought that they were magicians. Indeed in 
this sense only, it appears, the original word is 
used in other parts of the scriptures. Simon the 
sorcerer is so called: so also is Elymas. If they 
are to be considered in this light, then were the 
instruments of Satan turned against him: they 


* M«yo». 





493 

foreboded the shaking of his empire, and ac¬ 
knowledged the dawn of that day when “ he 
“ fell as lightning from heavenand they are 
the first fruits of the Saviours victory over the 
agents of darkness. We are disposed however 
to accord with our translators, and to affix 
another interpretation to the term, by consider¬ 
ing them as scholars. The Magi of the Persians 
were priests as well as philosophers : the ex¬ 
pounders of their laws, human and divine: nor 
would they suffer any man to be a king, who 
was not first enrolled among the Magi. This 
fact, probably, gave rise to the tradition of the 
Roman church, that they were kings. It is 
evident that thev were Gentiles: and these are 

J * 

the first pledges of the rending of the veil: of 
the breaking down the wall of partition; and 
of the abolition of the distinctions which had so 
long existed between the Jew and the Gentile. 
They were also “ wise men men not easily de¬ 
ceived. Well acquainted with the face of the 
heavens, and with the bodies of light which 
revolve there, they were not drawn from their 
native country to Jerusalem, without a convic¬ 
tion that the appearance upon which they gazed 
was an extraordinary one, and that the light 
which they followed portended some great 
event. 

2. What was this star? It was not one of 


494 

those stars which have been from the begin¬ 
ning of the creation, either regular or erratic: 
otherwise it had not been an indication of any 
thing new. When they said we have seen his 
star, the most natural construction which we 
can put upon the words is, that they then be¬ 
held it for the first time. It differed in every 
respect from all the heavenly bodies in the 
known planetary system. They shine with an 
equal blaze: this probably had a superior lustre. 
They are distant, and move remotely through 
the fields of ether: this was nearer the earth, 
that it might answer the purpose assigned it. 
They have a circular motion : this described no 
orbit. They are permanently fixed: this, hav¬ 
ing conducted the Magi to the Saviour’s feet, 
disappeared for ever. Comets were always held 
by the ancients as prognostications of extraor¬ 
dinary events, good or bad. They have made 
emperors tremble on their thrones, and have 
nerved the arm of soldiers for the battle. But 
this was a luminous appearance, resembling in' 
shape, figure, and splendour, a heavenly body, 
so completely, as to justify the appellation of a 
star —yet was it so expressly formed for the 
purpose of conducting them to the Redeemer, 
that they called it unequivocally, “ his star.” 

3. Of what country were they? I should 
translate the passage, “ We, of the East, have 


495 

* c seen liis star”—in which case the term, East , 
will not be used to specify the part of the hea¬ 
vens in which the star appeared, but the coun¬ 
try from which they came*. Perhaps from 
Mesopotamia, the country of Balaam, whose 
singular prophecy was probably handed down 
to them by tradition—“ There shall come a 
“ star out of Jacob:” and there might appear 
to them a singular coincidence between the 
prediction, and the phenomenon which they 
witnessed. Their gifts were Arabian— u gold, 
“ frankincense, and myrrh.” Their title, Magi, 
is Persian : and they, of all nations, were likely 
to be best acquainted with the Messiah, through 
the prophecies of Daniel. If they came from 
Arabia Felix, or Sebsea, all of which are east 
of Jerusalem, and were men of rank, then was 
the prophecy of David fulfilled, “ the kings of 
“ Sheba and of Seba shall bring gifts.” 

4. By what evidence is this fact sup¬ 
ported? Pliny speaks of “ a certain splendid 
“ comet, scattering it’s silver hair, and appear- 
“ ing a God in the midst of men.” Chalcidius 
writes of “ the rising of a certain star, not de- 
“ nouncing death and diseases, but the descent 


* See note St, at the end of this Lecture. 





496 

“ of a mild and compassionate God to human 
“ converse*.” 

Thus were tlie prophecies of the East re¬ 
echoed bv the western world. The whole globe 
slumbered in undisturbed tranquillity. The 
Jews, although tributary to Home, took their 
harps from the willows, to sing the approach of 
Messiah the prince. Samaria had caught the 
contagion, and was looking for the Christ, who 
should “ teach us all things.” The weeks pre¬ 
dicted by Daniel were accomplished; and the 
universal expectation may be conjectured, when 
impostors availed themselves of the state of the 
peoples mind to personate the Messiahf, and 
when strangers journeyed from the East to Je¬ 
rusalem in quest of him. 

The Magi came to the court of Herod, ex¬ 
pecting there to have found the babe, who was 
to be the king of the Jews. Their enquiry 
alarmed the jealousy of this monarch: and in 
consequence of it, when he learned that Christ 
was to be born in Bethlehem, “ he sent and slew 
“ all the children in Bethlehem, and in the coasts 
“ thereof, from two years old and under.” This, 
alas, was public enough ! The voice of lamenta- 


* See note 3, at the end of this Lecture, 
f Acts v. 36, 37. 





497 

tion in Rama, when Rachel wept for her chil¬ 
dren because they were not, surely was loud; 
and the history of the evangelists would have 
been blasted for ever in the eyes of their con¬ 
temporaries, had they attempted imposition in 
so public an event. But Josephus does not re¬ 
cord this slaughter. We answer, that Josephus, 
who wrote about seventy years after this event, 
drew all his history from the public records; 
and we may imagine that an act so cruel, and 
so inglorious to the memory of Herod, would 
hardly be transmitted to posterity through the 
medium of a public record. But Josephus does 
record many instances of the cruelty of Herod; 
is it therefore an objection to Matthew, that 
he records one more? Josephus relates those 
things which appertained immediately to state 
affairs: Matthew, those only connected with 
Jesus Christ. The history is not at all impro¬ 
bable, from the general character of Herod, 
who was one of the most sanguinary tyrants 
that ever disgraced humanity. Is it probable, 
that he who slew Hyrcanus, his wife’s grand¬ 
father, at the age of eighty, and who on a 
former occasion had saved his life: who pub¬ 
licly executed his lovely and virtuous partner*; 




* Mari am lie, 

k k 






493 

and who privately slaughtered three of his own 
children; and all these on principles of jealousy, 
should, on the same principles, be sparing of 
the blood of the children of others? In his last 
illness, a little before he died, he convened all 
the chief men of Judea, and after having shut 
them up in the Circus, he called his family to¬ 
gether, and said—“ I know that the Jews will 
“ rejoice at my death. You have these men in 
“ your custody. So soon as I am dead, and 
“ before it can be known publicly, let in the 
“ soldiers upon them, and kill them! All Judea, 
“ and every family, will then, although unwil- 
“ lingly, mourn at my death*!” “ Nay"—adds 
Josephus,—“ with tears in his eyes, he con- 
“ jured them by their love to him, and by their 
“ fidelity to God, not to fail to obey his orders f 
—We ask, whether, upon a consideration of 
this monsters disposition, such a deed as that 
ascribed to him by Matthew is improbable?— 
Macrobius, an heathen author, who flourished 
at the close of the fourth century, asserts it as 
a fact well known and indisputable. 

That our Saviour had been in Egypt, is so far 
from being denied, that it is asserted by Celsus, 


* See note 4, at the end of this Lecture. 





499 

who affirms that there lie learned the arts of 
magic, to which he imputes his miracles. 

The testimony of Josephus to the life of 
Christ is as follows: 

“ At this time there was one Jesus, a wise 

“ man, if I may call him a man : for he did 

“ most wonderful works, and was a teacher of 
“ those who received the truth with delight. 
“ Pie won many to his persuasion, both of the 
“ Jews, and of the Gentiles. This was Christ; 
“ and although he was, at the instigation of 
u some of our nation, and by Pilate’s sentence, 
“ suspended on the cross, yet those who loved 
“ him at the first, did not cease so to do: for 

“ he came to life again the third day, and ap- 

“ peared to them. And to this day, there re- 
“ mains a sect of men, who from him have the 
“ name of Christians*.” We claim this, as the 
testimony of a learned, yet bigoted Jew! In 
this short passage is a corroboration of all the 
prominent declarations of the gospel respecting 
the Saviour—his teaching—his death—at the 
instigation of the Jews—by the judgment of 
Pilate—on the cross—his resurrection—on the 
third day—his appearance to his followers—and 
their unshaken attachment to him. 


* See note 5, at the end of this Lecture, 
Kk 2 





500 


We are told by Matthew, that the fame of 
our Saviour during his life was reverberated 
throughout all Syria; and that there followed 
him, great multitudes from Galilee, Judea, De- 
capolis, Idumsea, from beyond Jordan, and 
from Tyre and Sidon. Had the records of these 
countries remained, or were the works of their 
historians extant, we might expect a large con¬ 
firmation of the gospel history. However, the 
evidence which we shall produce to our Sa¬ 
viour’s life and ministry must be admitted on 
all hands, because we shall take the testimony 
of three enemies. Julian, commonly called 
the apostate, acknowledges that Jesus and his 
disciples performed many wonderful works; 
and he therefore calls the Saviour an eminent 
magician. Porphyry allows that evil spirits 
were subject to him: for he says, that “ after 
“ Jesus was worshipped, Esculapius and the 
“ other gods did no more converse with men.” 
Celsus, unable to dispute the miracles of Jesus 
Christ, also flies to that childish plea, the impu¬ 
tation of them to magic. The Jews themselves » 
likewise, when they could not controvert the 
gospel history, nor deny these facts, ascribed 
them to Beelzebub. 

We have the same evidences relative to the 
death of Jesus. We can produce the univer¬ 
sal testimony of ancient writers, that at the 


501 

time of our Lord’s life and sufferings, the rulers 
mentioned in the evangelists by their name, ac¬ 
tually were the governors of the day. One au¬ 
thentic heathen record, which is now lost, but 
the remembrance of which is perfectly pre¬ 
served, and the existence of which can be clear¬ 
ly proved, was the account written by the go¬ 
vernor of Judea, under whom our Lord was 
judged, condemned, and crucified. It was 
customary at Rome, as indeed it is in every 
empire to the present hour, for the prefects and 
rulers of distant provinces, to transmit to their 
sovereign, a summary relation of all the extra¬ 
ordinary events in their administration. That 
Pontius Pilate should send such an account to 
Rome, cannot be doubted: that he really did, is 
evident from the following testimony. Justin 
Martyr, who lived about a century after our 

Saviour’s death, and who suffered martvrdom in 

' %/ 

t 

Rome, was engaged in a controversy with the 
philosophers at large, and particularly with Cres- 
cens the cynic. In this controversy he chal¬ 
lenged Crescens to dispute the cause of Chris¬ 
tianity with him before the Roman senate. It is 
not to be believed that Crescens would have 
declined the contest, or have lost the oppor- 
tunity of exposing his adversary before so au¬ 
gust a body, if he could have triumphed over 
him in the detection of any palpable forgeries 

k k 3 


502 


in the writings of the evangelists, relative to 
either the life or the death of our Lord. This 
father in his Apology, speaking of the death 
and sufferings of the Saviour, refers the emperor, 
for the truth of his assertions, to the acts of 
Pontius Pilate. Tertullian, who wrote his 
Apology about fifty years after Justin, says, 
that the emperor Tiberius, having received an 
account out of Palestine in Syria of the divine 
person who appeared in that country, paid 
him a particular regard, and threatened to pu¬ 
nish any who should accuse the Christians: 
nay, that the emperor would have admitted 
him among the number of the deities whom he 
worshipped, had not the senate refused their 
consent. Tertullian was one of the most learned 
men of his age, and well skilled in the laws of 
the Roman empire*. The acts of Pilate now 
extant, are spurious: for those to which we 
refer as authentic, had perished before the days 
of Eusebius, although they are mentioned by 
him. 

The death of our Lord, and the manner of 
it, under Pontius Pilate, and in the reign of 
Tiberius, are mentioned both by Tacitus and 
by Lucian. 


* See Addison’s Evidences of the Christian Religion; also note 0, 
at the end of this Lecture. 




503 

♦ « 

Ihe last melancholy scenes of the Saviours 
sufferings are also fully attested. The gospel 
history exactly coincides with the Jewish, and 
with the Roman customs; and the circumstances 
attending his dying agonies are universally ad¬ 
mitted. Behold the Lord of life and glory 
hanging upon a cross! Inhere could be no de¬ 
ception. He really suffered, he really died. 
The blood which stained his body, and moist¬ 
ened the ground, was his own heart's blood ; 
and the tears which fell from his eyes, were the 
bitter tears of real and unspeakable sorrow. 
“ The Sun beheld it—no, the shocking scene 
drove back his chariot!" Nature sympathized 
with the expiring Redeemer, and heaven with¬ 
drew it's light. Jesus suffered on the day in 
which the passover is eaten. This feast is kept 
on the fourteenth day of the month ; and ac¬ 
cording to the Jewish mode of reckoning from 
the first appearance of the moon after her 
change, it fell on the very day in which she 
was at the full An eclipse of the sun can only 
take place when the moon is between it and 
the earth; or in other words, at what we call a 
new moon: but at the full , the moon is in the 
side of the heavens opposite to the sun, and 
ice are between the two bodies: there could be 
therefore no natural eclipse of the sun at the 
time of the crucifixion. Another evidence, 

K k 4 


504 


that it was a supernatural eclipse, level to 
every understanding, is, that in common 
eclipses the sun’s total darkness can continue 
but twelve or fifteen minutes at most; but this 
awful darkness lasted no less than three hours! 
How far the darkness extended cannot now be 
easily decided: the following evidence, we 
think, proves that it was very general:—Phle- 
gon, the famous astronomer under the emperor 
Trajan, said, that “ in the fourth year of the 
“ 202 Olympiad,” which was that of the death 
of Christ, “ there was such a total eclipse of 
“ the sun at noon-day, that the stars were 
cc plainly visible*.”—Suidas also says, that Dio¬ 
nysius the Areopagite, who was then at Helio¬ 
polis in Egypt, upon this surprising phenomenon, 
exclaimed, “ Either the Author of Nature is suf- 
“ fering, or he sympathizes with some one who 
“ does—or the frame of the world is dissolving P 
Josephus bears witness to the rending the veil 
of the temple; and to this day, in the church 
of the Sepulchre, which stands on Mount Cal¬ 
vary, is to be seen a cleft in the rock said to be 
occasioned by the earthquake: which cannot 
certainly be proved—but it is evident, that the 
chasm is natural, and not the effect of art; 


* See note 7, at the end of this Lecture. 




505 

and that the rock was rent by some violent com¬ 
motion of the earth. 

After the decease of our Lord, Joseph of 
Arimathea went to Pilate, and petitioned for 
the body, which was granted to him. This 
rich man deposited it in his own “ new tomb, 
“ in which never man was laid.” Of course, 
should a resurrection take place, it must be that 
of Jesus; it could be of no other person. The 
chief priests, alarmed possibly at the awful con¬ 
vulsions which accompanied his death, request¬ 
ed and obtained permission of Pilate to set a 
watch over the tomb. They shrouded their own 
fears under a pretended concern lest the people 
should be deceived. We have accompanied the 
Saviour to the tomb, we have seen it sealed, we 
have left a Roman guard at the mouth of the 
sepulchre ; and let the chief priests produce the 
body on, or after, the third day in order to 
silence the clamours of the deluded multitude. 
This, however, is not done. The plenitude of 
their malice was not equal to the war which 
they attempted to wage against the high decrees 
of Heaven. 

The evangelists assert that on the third day 
Jesus arose : and they tell a regular, plain, un¬ 
varnished tale. Let us now examine the prin¬ 
ciples on which the resurrection of Jesus is op- 


506 


The body was not in the sepulchre on the 
third day. Let the guards give an account of 
the loss of it—they and they alone are answer- 
able for it. Only one account was ever attempt¬ 
ed to be palmed upon the world—“ His disci- 
“ pies came, and stole him while we slept/' 
Now observe, 

1. The guards appointed over the sepulchre 
were Roman guards: since it will appear by 
the sequel of this history that they were subject 
to Pilate, and under his controul; which would 
not have been the case had they been Jews, but 
they would have been answerable to the rulers 
of that nation. Now, it was death for a Roman 
soldier to sleep upon his watch: therefore had 
they been really overpowered with slumber, 
they would rather have feigned a miracle, when 
the minds of their employers were so well pre¬ 
pared to receive it, to save themselves from the 
punishment legally due to their crime, than 
have openly avowed it, had not higher powers 
said, “ We will secure vou.” We have more 
instances than one upon record of jailors suf¬ 
fering death for the loss of their prisoners. 

( 2. If the guards were really asleep, how 
came they to be so positive as to the persons 
who stole the body ? On what principle could 
they aihrm that the disciples were the depreda¬ 
tors? I suppose that this is the first and the 


507 

last instance in which men ever attempted to 
give evidence on a transaction which took place 
when they were confessedly asleep : or were 
ever called upon for such a purpose. 

3. Why were not the disciples immediately 
apprehended and made to restore the body? It 
was indisputably the duty of the chief priests to 
produce it after the third day publicly in a 
state of death, and thus for ever to silence the 
pretensions of a deceiver. Did the enemies of 
Jesus lack either power or influence, to rescue a 
dead body from twelve unarmed, poor, defence¬ 
less men, had they seriously entertained even a 
suspicion that his disciples had stolen him ? Did 
not the matter die away so soon as possible? 
W as there even any enquiry made into the af¬ 
fair? Did not the disciples boldly, arid openly, 
preach the resurrection of Jesus, in defiance of 
the threatenings of the Jews? 

4. Is it probable that the timid, unbelieving- 
disciples of Jesus Christ should have the rashness 
to attack a band of Roman soldiers; or to ven¬ 
ture into the sepulchre, even had they slumbered ? 
We feel that we have reason to complain of the 
want of candour in infidelity in urging its objec¬ 
tions against Christianity. Fair and open ground 
is relinquished for finesse and quibbling, lire 
disciples are sometimes portrayed mean and 
timid men, to expose them to contempt: but 


508 


when it serves the purpose of scepticism, they 
are represented, wise, prudent, designing, cou¬ 
rageous, enterprising; and more is ascribed to 
them than human power ever yet performed. 
Now they cannot have two opposite characters; 
and we hold infidelity to the gospel history, and 
to it’s own concessions, that they were plain, 
uninformed, timid, unbelieving men. Were 
these characters to attack a legion of Roman 
soldiers successfully? 

5. Could the immense stone have been rolled 
away, and the body removed, without noise 
and confusion sufficient to break their slumbers? 
Surely, they must have been dead, and not 
asleep! 

6. Would the disciples, had they stolen the 
body, have remained to lay the linen clothes in 
order—as they were found? Is it probable that 
amid the confusion which such a circumstance 
supposes, that they would either have had lei¬ 
sure, or inclination, or even presence of mind, 
for such an arrangement ? 

7< Have we not proved that heathen writers, 
and even enemies, admitted the fact of our 
Saviour’s miracles, although they ascribed them 
to a false cause? Are there not in the gospels 
four successive instances of his raising the dead, 
uncontroverted? And is his own resurrection 
more wonderful than these? or than that of the 


509 

sleeping saints at his death? Upon the whole, 
then, the resurrection of Jesus never was op¬ 
posed at the time by an objection that demand¬ 
ed a moment’s serious consideration: while the 
evidences in favour of it, are numerous, respect¬ 
able, and decisive. “ For I delivered unto you, 
“ first of all that which I also received: how 
“ that Christ died for our sins according to 
the scriptures; and that he was buried, and 
u that he rose again the third day according to 
“ the scriptures: and that he was seen of Ce~ 
phas, then of the twelve. After that he was 
“ seen of above five hundred brethren at once : 
“ of whom the greater part remain unto this 
u present, but some are fallen asleep. After 
iC that he was seen of James; then of all the 
“ apostles. And last of all, he was seen of me 
“ also, as of one born out of due time.” These 
witnesses were numerous and respectable; and 
they afterwards proved their sincerity by lay-, 
ing down their lives for their testimony. 

Forty days he shewed himself alive, by 
“ many infallible proofsat the expiration of 
which he ascended to glory. The disciples were 
eye-witnesses of this also. Their sincerity they 
shewed in their sufferings, and it was not a 
point in which they could be deceived. In 
things which fall under the eye, the clown is as 


510 


good a witness as the philosopher; and in plain 
matter of fact, the illiterate are as capable of 
judging as the learned. The consequences of 
his ascension were seen in the pouring out of 
the Holy Spirit upon them, in a public manner, 
on a public occasion : and the power then con¬ 
ferred of working miracles, was a standing evi¬ 
dence of the truth of what they preached for 
nearly a century. This event sufficiently ac¬ 
counts for the subsequent wisdom and courage 
of the naturally illiterate and timid disciples. 
Such are the evidences by which the life, death, 
resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ are 
supported, as matters of fact: whether they 
be decisive and satisfactory, you must deter¬ 
mine. 

That the immediate disciples of Jesus Christ 
did meet together for the purposes assigned in 
the sacred scriptures, may be proved from the 
testimony of Pliny the younger: who says that 
“ Christ was worshipped as a God among the 
“ Christians: that they would rather suffer 
“ death than blaspheme him: that they re- 
“ ceived a sacrament, and by it entered into a 
“ vow of abstaining from sin and wickedness, 

“ conforming to the advice of Paul ; that they 
“ had private assemblies of worship, and used 


511 


“ to sing together in hymns*.” This account 
was written about seventy years after our-Sa¬ 
viour’s crucifixion. 

Quadratus, who was converted to Chris¬ 
tianity, was a celebrated Athenian philosopher ; 
and he says, that “ those whom our Saviour 
u raised and healed, were not only seen while 
“ he himself was upon earth, but survived after 
“ his departure out of the world.” “ Nay,” 
adds he, “ some of them were living in our 
6t days.” And both Tertullian and Arnobius 
assert, the conversion of multitudes of learned 
men, from the simple conviction of the truth of 
Christianity, arising from evidences then within 
their reach, and from personal knowledgef. 

We conceive that by this time, you will be 
ready to admit the truth of the apostle's asser¬ 
tion which we read to you at the opening of 
this Lecture : “ We have not followed cunning- 
“ ly devised fables, when we made known unto 

you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus 
“ Christ, but were eye-witnesses of his ma- 
“ jesty ” 

And now it is only necessary to observe, that 

* See Addison's Evidences. See also note 8, at the end of this 
Lecture. 

f Aristides and others. 




512 

Revelation is to us, what the star was to the 
wise men. 

1. In it's nature. It is a light shining 
in a dark place. It is the u day-spring from 
“ on high visiting us.” What a world was this 
before it arose! The shadows of ten thousand 
midnights could not have made a gloom so hor¬ 
rible; and the blackness that veiled Egypt three 
long days and nights, was light in comparison 
of this irksome, impenetrable obscurity. The 
trembling, feeble ray of reason, served only to 
make darkness visible; and the proud disco¬ 
veries of philosophy shone only through the 
night as the twinkling of a taper, to expire 
when the sun arose. No cheering beam illu¬ 
mined either hemisphere, till this morning star 
was seen in the East, as the harbinger of perfect 
day. Then the shout was heard—“ The people 
“ that walked in darkness have seen a great 
“ light; upon them that dwell in the land of 
“ the shadow of death hath the light shined.” 
It resembled the star 

2. In it’s source. It is remarkable that 
all intelligence came first from the East.—v 
Science there uncovered all the effulgence 
of her radiant head, while .the West was in 
darkness. There was the first manifestation 
of God; and long, very long, was this light 
confined to her borders. A night of supersti- 


513 


tion and of ignorance brooded on the world, 
while the descendants of Abraham (who was 
himself from the East) enjoyed the light of 
truth. In every respect the lands lying under 
the rising sun have ever had the start of us; 
and we have been satisfied to be their disciples. 
Our language, cold and torpid in itself, has 
borrowed imagery from theirs. We have learned 
from them, in our eloquence, to thunder with 
the storm: to rush with the torrent: to glide 
with the river: to murmur with the rill; and to 
whisper with the breeze. From them came this 
volume fraught with intelligence; and revela¬ 
tion, like the guiding star, arose in the East. 

3. In it’s object it resembles this star. Jesus 
Christ is the sum and substance of this book. 
Obliterate his name from these sacred pages, 
and you have extinguished their light, de-. 
stroyed their vigour, deranged their harmony, 
and defaced their beauty. There is not a par¬ 
ticle of information treasured up here, that does 
not, more nearly or remotely, in some way, re¬ 
late to him. Not a prophecy, not an history, 
not a miracle, not a doctrine, not a precept, 
not an epistle, that is not united, by some in¬ 
visible thread, to the Messiah. The express de¬ 
sign of this record is to make us acquainted 
with him: to discover what he has done : to 

L 1 


514 


enforce what he has said : to declare what he 
expects : to testify of “ the King of the Jews.” 

4. In it’s issue Revelation resembles this star. 
It had no sooner led these sages to the feet of 
Jesus Christ, than it disappeared for ever. The 
Bible safely conducts us to Christ, but not 
immediately. It therefore remains to guide 
our erring feet through this world, as the pas¬ 
sage to his more immediate presence. It is ne¬ 
cessary to discover the thousand dangers of the 
way, and the difficulties which we must sur¬ 
mount. But when we shall have arrived at our 
Father’s house: when we shall see him, eye to 
eye, and face to face ; when we are safely con¬ 
ducted to the place where he is: having fulfilled 
it’s commission, and answered it’s destination, 
this star also shall disappear. 

O may we see him as our Prince and Lord! 
see him — not as did Balaam when he reluc¬ 
tantly predicted his coming, and said, “ I shall 
“ see him, but not now: I shall behold him, 
“ but not nigh!” — See him—not as did the 
Jews, who discerned no form nor comeliness 
in him; who saw no beauty that they should 
desire him; and who refused their king! See 
him—not as Herod, who desired to subvert his 
cause, and to take away his life—not with an 
envious, malignant eye: but see him—as did 


these sages, who fell down at his feet and wor¬ 
shipped him: — embrace him—as did Simeon, 
when he was about to die; and behold him— 
where he unveils all the splendours of his face, 
and fills the temple of God with light, life, and 
his unclouded presence ! 







Note 1 . —The expectation of the world, relative to the appearance 

of some distinguished character, about the time of our Lord’s ad* 

✓ 

vent, was elucidated by an extract from Virgil's Pollio, in page 485, 
of the preceding Lecture: and the original of the lines translated 
there, is subjoined. 

Sicelides Musae, paullo majora canamus ! 

Ultima Cumaei venit jam carminis aetas; 

Magnus ab integro sieclorum nascitur ordo. 


Jam nova progenies ccelo demittitur alto. 

Tu modo nascenti puero, quo ferrea primum 
Desinet, ac toto surget gens aurea mundo. 

Casta fave Lucina.- 

Teque adeo decus hoc aevi, te Consule, inibit, 
Pollio; et incipient magni procedere menses. 
Te duce, si qua manent, sceleris vestigia nostri 
Inrita perpetua solvent formidine terras: 

Pacatumque reget patriis virtutibus orbem. 

At tibi prima, puer, nullo manuscula cultu, 
Errantis ederas passim cum baccare, tell us, 
Mixtaque ridenti colocasia fundet acantho. 


nec magnos metuent armenta leones. 











NOTES. 


517 


Occidet et serpens, et fallax herba veneni 

Occidet.-- 

Molli paullatim Havescet campus arista, 

Incultisque rubens pendebit sentibus uva; 

Et dura quercus sudabunt roscida mella. 

Pauca tamen suberunt priscae vestigia fraudis, 

Quae tentare Thetim ratibus, quae cingere muris 
Oppida, quae jubeant tellurem infindere sulcis, 

Alter erit turn Tiphys, et altera quae vehat Argo 
Delectos heroas; erunt etiam altera bella; 

Atque iterum ad Trojain magnus mittetur Achilles. 

Hinc, ubi jam firmata virum te fecerit aetas, 

Cedet et ipse mari vector; nec nautica pinus 
Mutabit merces : omnis feret omnia tellus: 

Non rastros patietur humus, non vinea falcem. 

Talia saecla, suis dixerunt, currite, fusis 
Concordes stabili fatorum numine Parcae. 

Adgredere o magnos, aderit jam tempus, honores, 

CaradeQm suboles, magnum Jovis incrementum ! 

Adspice convexo nutantem pondere mundum ; 

Terrasque, tractusque maris, ccelumque profundum : 

Adspice, venturo laetantur ut omnia saeclo. 

O mihi turn longae maneat pars ultima vitae, 

Spiritus et, quantum sat erit tua dicere facta ! 

Virg. Eel. iv. Pollio. 

N oxe 2. — I have translated IfiofAtv ya.% av ri rot ccalsgx it tv 
uvxto'Kv — in page 495, of the preceding Lecture— We of the East 
have seen his star —referring the term East } not to the part of the 
heavens in which the star appeared, but to the country whence they 
came. I believe that I am not alone in this translation ; and if I 
mistake not, this, or a very similar one, is the rendering of Dr. 
Campbell, in his new translations of the gospels. Another explana¬ 
tion is offered by Poole in his learned and laborious Synopsis—which 
is, We have seen his star at it’s rising; and he adds, that the Greek 
astronomers use the term xvxtoXv to imply the rising of any heavenly 






518 


NOTES. 


body, and Svcth; for it’s setting. Thus the passage may mean—we 
saw this star from it's very first appearance, at the moment when it 
began to shine in the heavens; and it’s position appeared to us to 
mark it’s relation to Judea. And this learned writer, moreover, in¬ 
forms us, that the professors of astrology (and such perhaps were 
these Magi) were accustomed to assign certain spaces of the hea¬ 
vens, in their calculations, to certain correspondent regions of the 
earth.—“ Ad exortum ejus , sive, quum oriretur : Hue facit, 1. quod 
tl Gnecis astronomis ortus stellarum dicitur uvocto^t), et, inncXi} 
“ (ut uvuroXvi nAia, ortus solis, Apoc. 7. 2.) et occasus earum, $v<ri<;: 
“ 2. qubd oriens, sicut et occidens, plur. num. aya-roXcu et Svcrpal, 
a plerumque exprimuntur, Matt. 8, 11, et 24, 27. Luc. 13, €9. Cre- 
“ dibile est, apparuisse hanc stellam in ea coeli parte, quae consensu 
u astrologorum ad Judseam pertinuit, ut solent ab ejus artis profes- 
“ soribus terrarum regiones certis coeli spatiis ascribi: Qute dico, 
“ non quod superstitiosis ariolationibus patrocinari cupiani, sed quod 
“ arbitrer Deum ita res disponere, ut ea, quae, sive jure, sive in- 
“ juria, magni apud homines hunt, interdum trahat in veri testirao- 
“ mum.” 

Pol. Synop. Crit. Tom. IV. in Matt. cap. ii. 2, 

t 

Note 3.—Testimonies of Pliny and of Chalcidius, relative to the 
appearance of this luminous body: translated in page 496, of the 
preceding Lecture. The passages are thus extracted and quoted by 
the author whose remarks form the substance of the former note. 

Hue et illud Plinii, (qui ex obscura fama auditum refert, qua 
de re scripsit, ipse ignorans) qui “ apparuisse aliquando” scribit 
<( Cornet am candidum , argenteo crine ita refulgentem , ut vix contueri 
licuerit, specitqne hurnana Dei effigiem in xe ostendentem” 
Testimonium Chalcidii Platonici (modb yvncriov sit) apposi- 
tum est, ct Sant notanda est,” inquit, “ alia sanctior et venerabilior 
historic, qua perhibet de ortu Stella, cujnsdam, non morbos mortes - 
t{ que denunciantem, sed descensum Dei venerabilis ad humance con- 
“ versutionis, rerumque rnortalium, gratiam; quam stellam cbm noc- 
u turno itinere suspexissent Chaldaorum profecto sapientes viri, et 
i( consider at ione rerum ccdestkim satis excrcitati, quasisse dicuniur 
“ recentis Dei ortum, repertdque ilia Majestate puerili, veiierati esse , 
et vota Deo tanto convenientia nuncupasse .” 

Poli Synopsis Crit. Tom. IV. in Matt. cap. ii. 2 . 


NOTES. 


519 


Note 4. —Testimony of Josephus to the cruel disposition of Herod 
manifested especially in his last moments; noticed and translated in 
page 498, of the preceding Lecture. 

ngoaxxXse-xpevog cie YxXupvjV ty/v ahxipyjv kx( Toy xvtyx txvtyh 
AXt%xv f Li o»<5a, M e^*?, “ Iy^aias tov ply ipov io(>Txaov\x<; Oxvxtov, 

$VVXpXi *7TiV§£KT§0U STE^UVy XXV XxpTTgOV £7 TVTXplOV cr^EO, XV 

vptu; §eXri<7Y)r s tx 7<; taxi's ivToXxvq vTTijgyyicrxi. t&s 5e t«s <p^a^a» 
pivas xv^xs f ittev^xv iy.7rv£v&co, Txyia\x xTtwxTt ‘jrE^Jl'/icruvTES 


u 


u 


it 


a 


rat; algxTWTxg, wx vraxx lad'xva, y.ou %xs oixo?, xxuv ett' taov 


Itibxv 


tt ^ />t 

‘ oxx^vari. 


Jos. de Bello Jud. Tom. II. lib. i. cap. xxxiii. p. 1041. 

Hudsoni edit. 

In his Antiquities of the Jews, he relates the same fact, with this 
addition : 

K«i o p\v piTx Sxxqvuv '/roTvvuptvos, xlv tS ervyytv3q ty,v tvvoixv 
you vricfliv t a ©sia npoaxxXwv t7rixxr)7rle ph rjTvpuxQxv x^vuv. y.xxivvov 
ZpQXoyav a nx^xQ^cta^xv. 

Joseph, de Antiq. Jud. Tom. II. lib . xvii. cap. vii.p. 769. 

Hudsoni edit. 

Josephus might well add, that he was a man u totally, alienated 
“ from humanity”—and express his surprise that his thirst of blood 
should remain in those last moments, when most men are disposed 
to bury even the injuries which they have received in eternal obli¬ 
vion ! His family had the humanity to break their vow to him; and 
immediately upon his death set their illustrious prisoners at liberty. 


Note 5. — Testimony of Josephus to the life, the sufferings, and 
the resurrection of Jesus Christ: as also of the unshaken attachment 
of his followers to him. 


rivETat £e xxtx tbtov toy Xgovov Ir)<?3<;, crotpos xvqg, ttyt xvfyx xvtov 
Xeyevv yTrxgxool'av i'^yuv ttoojt &^xxxxXos xvBguvra>v 

r uv r$ovy TxXySr) ^e yppivuv* xxv ttoXXbs ptTx Iyeiaia?, woXXbs $s 
xxi th EATojvtxS iirr,yxyiTo. 6 Xgvcrlof a to? rjv. xxv xvtov tv^ti^tv 
TUV ’7TQWTUV XV^gUV 7T XQ Y)p,7v f JlxV^Ctl E e 7rCl£Tlp.r l X.OTO$ YlvXxTBy BH 
tTrxvaxvTo olyt it^u)Tov xvtov ocyxirvcxvlis. ttyxvvi yxg xvtok; Tg'iTtiv 
lyu't npiP&V ttxXh tuv Sewv TrgoQ'i ituv txvtx T£ x«» «XXa pvfa 

L 1 4 


520 


NOTES. 


nvuv wnro ryot 


hccvpa.<noi rti£i uvrx tigwoTuv. ejj m vvv ruv Xgialt 
UVOp.X(TplvuV HH. £7T£X»9r* TO <pHX0V. 

Jos. de Antiq. Jud. Tom. II. lib. xviii. cap. 4. p. 798. Hudsoni edit. 

Some have affirmed that this passage is interpolated : and it is al¬ 
ways easy to make affirmations, and to raise objections. The follow¬ 
ing reasons have always satisfied my mind that it is genuine. J. It 
accords well with it’s connection, and forms a link with the other 
parts of the narrative. 2. It agrees in point of time with the facts 
narrated along with it, 3. It is such a testimony as might be ex¬ 
pected from such a man as Josephus: neither enlarged upon with 
the partiality of friendship (for he was a Jew, and not a Christian) 
nor disfigured to blot the fidelity of the historian : but related with a 
conciseness which shews him unwilling to keep back any part of the 
fact, yet unable to account for the extraordinary circumstances at¬ 
tending it. 4. It would have been a marvellous thing indeed, if Jo¬ 
sephus, who died within 93 years after Christ, and who professed to 
write every thing worthy recording relative to the Jewish nation, 
both in it’s former state, and in the degradation to which it had sunk 
in his days, should have omitted to speak of an event, nearly con 
’temporary with himself, which was in every one’s mouth, which ex¬ 
cited such a ferment in his own nation; and while a new sect, spring¬ 
ing from this very event, attracted the notice and the persecution 
of both Jews and Gentiles, and boldly, perseveringly, successfully, 
disseminated their tenets around him. 5. Origen, who flourished 
about 200 years after Christ, appeals to this testimony, when he says 
E \ ya.(> Tu> ox.Tti)Kouhx.a]cj rij$ Itf^stVxik a.^ycc\oKoy\oi.^ o Iwcr>j7ro; r 
&C. o y uvroixoa t oiyt u7rn/luv tu I*jo-3 uq &C. 

Orig. contra Cels. lib. i. p. 35. Cantab, edit. 1677. 

The substance of these extracts is given in page 499, of the 
preceding Lecture. 


Note 6.— Testimonies of Justin Martyr, and of Tertullian, to the 
facts of the life, the death, and the resurrection of Christ. 

Justin Martyr, speaking of the parting of our Lord’s vesture, 
&c. appeals to the acts of Pilate then extant. As t&vtcl on ytyov t, 
^vvuctBb lAutyliv Ijc tuv ETri II ovl'm II i\cchs yi.vop.lvuv cinruv. 

Just. Martyr . Apol. prima , p. 56. Thirlbii edit . 1722. 

This Apology was addressed to the emperor Antoninus Pius, 


NOTES. 


521 


Again, lie challenges Crescens to a public contest on the merits 
of Christianity before the Roman senate. Ka» ort Xeya, tl 

y.*) uvrivt^Bria-ot'j vyfv xi xoivwvlxt tuv Xoyuv, et oiyoq v.xi tip vpuv 
XOiVUVEiV T UV EgUTVKTEUV TCXhw' (3xa&M0V V XV X.OU T«T0 EgyOV tiv). 

Just. Martyr. Apol. sec?tnda, p. 122, Thirlbii edit. 1722. 

This apology was addressed to the Roman senate. Epiphanius 
also speaks of the acts of Pilate, and is quoted by the learned and 
accurate Grotius. See Grot, de Ver. Rel. Christ, lib. ii. sect. ii. in 
not. 5. 


Tertulltan thus speaks of the opinion which Tiberius had form¬ 
ed ot Christ, and of Christianity, from the authentic records which 
he had received from Palestine, respecting him : 

Tiberius ergo, cujus tempore nomen Christianum in scculum in- 
travit, annuntiata sibi ex Syria Palaestina quae illic veritatem istius 
divinitatis revelarant detulit ad senatum cum prasrogativa suffragii 
sui. Senatus, quia non ipse probaverat, respuit: Caesar in sententia 
mansit, comminatus periculum accusatoribus Christianorum.—C'on- 
sulite commentaries vestros! 

Tertull. Apologet. p. 6. Lutet. edit. 1634. 

He explains why the will of the emperor alone could not prevail to 
enrol Christ among the number of the gods, to which he was so 
decidedly inclined—Vetus erat decretum, ne qui deus ab imperatore 
consecraretur, nisi a senatu probatus. There was an ancient decree^ 
that no god should he consecrated by the emperor , unless approved by 
the senate. Tertullian would not have dared, at that time, to have 
affirmed these things, had they not been true: much less would he 
have thrown out the challenge, “ Consult your records!” 

The substance of these extracts is given in page 502, of the pre¬ 
ceding Lecture. 


Note 7.— Origen mentions Phlegon’s testimony to the darkness 
at our Lord’s crucifixion, as also to the earthquake. ILgi $1 rri? etA 
T Kxicrxgoi; ekAei^ecc/?, e @x<7tXEVovlo<; text o IrjcSs s oikev eo! xu- 
kxi TTEjp r uv ytyx’Kuv tote ysvoytvuv cuayuv rn<; y*}$ f xve- 
ytyx\ \e kxv toxlyuv ev ru T^crxxibey.xTu otyxt t uv Xgovixuv. 

Orig. contra Cels. p. 80. Cantab, edit. JC77. 

The evidence produced in this note, is stated in page 504, of the 
preceding Lecture. 


522 


NOTES. 


Note 8. —To what has been translated from Pliny in page 51d, 
of the preceding Lecture, may be added his testimony of the rapid 
spread of Christianity. Multi omnis aetatis, omnis ordinis, utriusque 
sexus etiam vocantur in periculum. Neque civitates tantum, sed 
vicos etiam, atque agros, superstitionis istius contagio pervagata est 
—prope jam desolata templa—et sacra solennia diu intermissa: Vic- 
timas, quarum adhuc rarissimus emptor inveniebatur. 

Many of every age, of every rank, and of both sexes , were brought 
into danger. The contagion of this superstition had spread , not into 
cities merely , but also into villages, and into fields. The temples were 
nearly desolate. The most sacred rites for some time were suspended. 
And scarcely any one was found to purchase victims for them. 

Plin. Epist. lib. x. epist. 97. 


523 


LECTURE XIII. 


THE CHARACTER OF THE WRITERS OF THE OLD 
AND NEW TESTAMENTS. 


1. JOHN I. 1—3. 

That which was from the beginning, which we have 
heal'd, which we have seen with our eyes, which 
we have looked upon, and our hands have han¬ 
dled of the word of life ; (For the life was ma¬ 
nifested, and we have seen it, and bear witness, 
and shezv unto you that eternal life, which was 
with the Father, and was manifested unto us;) 
That which zve have seen and heard, declare zve 
unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with 
us: and truly our fellozvship is with the Father f 
and with his Son Jesus Christ . 






524 

j ‘ l 


heb. xi. 36—38. 


And others had trial of cruel mockings , and scourg- 
ings, yea , moreover, of bonds and imprisonment . 
They were stoned , they were sazcn asunder, were 
tempted\ were slain with the sword: they wan¬ 
dered about in sheep-skins , and goat-skins, being 
destitute, afflicted, tormented: (of whom the 
world was not worthy:) they wandered in deserts , 
and in mountains, and in dens, and in caves of 
the earth . 


V 


What a sensation must the ascension of the 
Saviour have excited in heaven and upon earth! 
what interest in the bosoms of some, what, emo¬ 
tions of fear and of rage in the hearts of others ! 


what were the reflections of all parties upon 
this wonderful and impressive event? Had the 
chief priests then seen him, (and it is not impos¬ 
sible that from the tops of their houses at Je¬ 
rusalem they might see him) they would have 
gnashed their teeth with envy and indignation, 
and disappointment, and have said—‘Is this the 
£ despised carpenter’s son, whom we crucified? 
4 Is this the man whom we endeavoured to con- 
* fine in the grave ? Is this the cause which we 
J hoped to subvert? Is this the teacher whom 


i 


525 


< we laboured to destroy? O fruitless efforts! 
" He rises superior to all our designs! He tri¬ 
umphs over all our malice f But what did the 
disciples think? Were they not saying in their 
hearts, 4 Is this the friend upon whose kind and 
disinterested counsels we have so long relied ? 
Is this the expiring 44 Author and Finisher of 
“ our faith,” whom our unbelieving fears thought 

* to be 44 dead, but who is alive again, and will 
* c live for evermore?” John would ask, 4 Is this 

* the Saviour who permitted me to share his 
4 confidence, and to repose my head upon his 
4 bosom?' Thomas would enquire, 4 Can this 
4 be the man, of whom my faithless heart said, 
“ Except I shall see in his hands the print of 
ic the nails, and put my fingers into the print 
44 of the nails, and thrust my hands into his 
“ side, I will not believe?” Prostrate and weep¬ 
ing on the mount, Peter would say, 4 Is this the 
4 master whom I denied, and for whom I dared 
4 not endure a little affliction ? Is this lie who 
4 raised me from my vile employment, and ad- 
4 mitted me into his glorious service ; but whom 
4 I feared to own, what day my false tongue said, 
44 I know not the man?” And am I, who was 
4 afraid to 4 watch with him one hour/ and 
4 ashamed to be called his disciple, permitted to 
4 behold his glory, to participate his parting 
4 blessing, and to share the dignity of his exal- 


526 


1 tation ?—“ To me, who am less than the least 
“ of all saints is this grace given?”—Would they 
not all say—‘ From this moment we give our 

* fears to the four winds of heaven? “ Lord, we 
“ believe, help thou our unbelief!” We wait the 
1 accomplishment of thy promise, and hail the 

* dawn of thy empire!’ And while these were 

gazing below, lost in wonder, in love, and in 

admiration, were not the angels answering each 

other in responsive lays? “ He hath ascended 

• 

up on high! he hath led captivity captive! 
“ he hath received gifts for men! yea, for the re- 
" bellious also, that the Lord God may dwell 
“ among them P He ascended higher, and they 
renewed their song—■*“ Glory to God in the 
“ highest, and on earth, peace, good will to- 
“ ward men!” As he still continued to rise, 
and gradually to lose sight of the earth, “ the 
“ chariots of God, which are twenty thousand, 
“ even thousands of angels,” waited to receive 
him: the celestial harps were struck yet louder; 
and the full chorus shouted, “ Lift up your heads, 
“ O y e gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting 
“ doors, and the King of glory shall come in! 
“ Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong 
“ and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle ! Lift 
“ up your heads, O ye gates, even lift them up, 
“ ye everlasting doors, and the King of glory 
“ shall come in! Who is this King of glory ? 




527 

The Lord of hosts, he is the King of glory T 
And now all the resplendent scene faded through 
distance from mortal vision. Him, the heavens 
received; and he sat down on his Fathers throne. 
Even then, did not a voice break from the most 
excellent glory, the voice of God heard and 
adored by all the armies of heaven ? “ This is 
tc my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; 
“ and let all the angels of God worship him. 
H Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever; 
“ a sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre of thy 
M kingdom. Ask of me, and I shall give thee 
“ the heathen for thine inheritance, and the 
“ uttermost parts of the earth for thy posses- 
“ sion!” Still were the disciples rivetted to the 
spot whence he ascended: still were their eyes 
fixed on the point in the heavens where he dis¬ 
appeared: still his voice sounded in their ears, 
and they seemed to listen to his parting blessing. 
“ And while they looked stedfastly toward hea- 
“ ven as he went up. behold, two men stood 
“ by them in white apparel; which also said, 
“ Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up 
“ into heaven? This same Jesus which is taken 
“ from you up into heaven, shall so come in like 
<( manner as ye have seen him go into heaven.’' 
And they returned unto Jerusalem: but as they 
left the hallowed mount, surely their hearts, 
burned within them, and they said—Blessed 


528 


" be the Lord God, the God of Israel, who only 
“ doeth wonderous things ! And blessed be his 
“ glorious name for ever; and let the whole 
“ earth be filled with his sjory. Amen, and 
« amen P 

But we must now turn away from this great 
sight, and follow these same men through the 
scenes of their subsequent lives. We must also 
examine the conduct of those who led the way 
under the former dispensation, and from whose 
writings the mission and the claims of Jesus 
were proved; and it is our business this evening 
to present you with an outline of The Charac¬ 
ter of the Writers of the Old and New 
Testaments. Listen to the discussion of a few 
simple propositions upon this subject. We assert 


THAT THE ROOKS OF THE OLD AND NEW 
TESTAMENTS WERE REALLY WRITTEN BY 
THOSE WHOSE NAMES THEY BEAR. 

We can attempt to prove this position only 
upon one common principle of reasoning, which 
will, however, be deemed conclusive. It is, the 
testimony of the people to whom these oracles 
were committed, and the cor.current consent 
of all nations. A large proportion of this vo¬ 
lume consists of the public chronicles of a whole 


529 

empire; and th$re is an end of the good faith of 
nations if they admit forgeries into their pub¬ 
lic records : the very sources from which the 
historian draws are contaminated. With respect 
to the laws of Moses, the books of the respec¬ 
tive prophets, the history of the gospels, and the 
epistles of the New Testament, they are allow¬ 
ed by the very persons among whom, and for 
whom, they were written, to be the productions 
of those very men whose names are prefixed to 
them. The testimony of any man respecting 
the historians or the poets of his own country, 
and especially the testimony of a whole body 
of people respecting their own writers, ought 
to be deemed decisive; because they, and they 
only, are competent witnesses in the affair. Now 
these men were Jews; and we have the testi¬ 
mony of the whole Jewish nation, handed down 
from father to son through all successive gene¬ 
rations, from the periods when the different wri¬ 
ters flourished to the present hour, that such 
and such books, were, according to their pre¬ 
tensions, really written by such and such persons, 
to whom they are ascribed; and all nations have 
concurred, at every point of time, in this testi¬ 
mony. These writers ever have been acknowledged 
by them; and the chronology of their works, 
for the most part, has been accurately deter¬ 
mined. No man who pretends to reason can 

m m 


530 


deny his assent to such evidence. He who can 

4 / 

bring himself to reject such authority, may with 
equal propriety conclude that the productions 
of Homer or of Virgil, of Demosthenes or of 
Cicero, are not really the writings of the dis¬ 
tinguished poets and orators whose names they 
bear. For these rest precisely upon the same 
evidence, which we now produce in favour of 
the sacred records—the testimony of their co¬ 
temporaries, and of their countrymen, and the 
concurrent consent of all nations. Deny this au¬ 
thority in the one case, and you must necessarily 
destroy it in the other: neither can you (to be 
consistent) believe with any degree of certainty, 
any thins: but that which falls within the im- 

4 / 

mediate sphere of your own knowledge. To 
follow this principle wliat a fund of genius and 
of information must be destroyed ! We must 
blot out the works of all our historians, on the 
pretence that they need decisive evidence; and 
human intelligence must be drawn from the 
scanty springs of threescore years and ten, furr 
nished by a man’s own life. But if the testimo¬ 
ny of a people respecting their own writers, and 
the general consent of nations, be any thing : 
if this be the authority upon which we receive 
all works, and all writers : if this be the basis 
of all our historical certainty: then, is it ceded 
to the writers of the Bible, and on this general 


531 


principle must it be admitted, that the books 
of the Old and New Testaments were really 
written by those whose names they bear. We 
affirm 


II. THAT THE WRITERS WERE, FOR THE MOST 
PART, EYE-WITNESSES OF THE FACTS WHICH 
THEY RECORDED. 

There is a sufficient degree of internal evi¬ 
dence, deducible from the different compositions 
themselves, to establish this assertion. Examine 
the first five books of the scriptures, and it will 
appear, that Moses was necessarily an eye-wit¬ 
ness of most of the events recorded in his law. 
He was present during all the plagues of Egypt, 
and was constituted the great agent in producing 
them. He saw the water transformed into 
blood—the pestilence which destroyed the cat¬ 
tle—the insects which covered the country—the 
protracted night which brooded over the whole 
empire, Goshen excepted—and he heard the 
cry of despair sound from all quarters, re-echoed 
from the palace to the prison, when the first¬ 
born were slain. He was an eye-witness to the 
deliverance of the Israelites, and to their mira¬ 
culous journey through the wilderness. He saw 
the fire which encircled Mount Sinai, and the 

m m % 


532 


cloud which rested upon it’s summit: he heard 
the terrible thunderings, and the more fearful 
voice of God. He beheld every fact which he 
relates till they reached the very borders of Ca¬ 
naan. When he died, Joshua took the command 
of Israel’s armies, and recorded events as they 
transpired, till he also was laid in the dust of 
death. The books of Judges, of Ruth, of Samuel, 
of the Kings, and Chronicles, although the com¬ 
positions of different persons, were evidently, 
from their style, written at the time, and on the 
spot, where the events which they relate took 
place. This is manifest, from the simplicity of 
the narrations, and the appeal both to persons 
and to things then well known, the remembrance 
of which is noxc lost. Moreover, we are inces¬ 
santly referred in the historical parts of the scrip¬ 
tures to books which are no longer extant, but 
which were then unquestionably esteemed faith¬ 
ful records; and this very circumstance proves 
at once the antiquity, the veracity, and the pre¬ 
servation of the Bible. Precisely on the same 
ground is the New Testament recommended to 
us. Listen to the language of the apostles 
themselves. “ That which was from the begin- 
“ uing, which we have heard, which we have 
“ seen with our eyes, which w r e have looked up- 
“ on, and our hands have handled of the word 
“ of life-declare we unto you!” W r e main¬ 

tain, 



533 


ItT.- THAT THE THINGS WHICH THEY DID NOT 
SEE, THEY DERIVED FROM THE MOST CER¬ 
TAIN EVIDENCES, AND DREW FROM THE 
PUREST SOURCES. 

If a man be incompetent to record any thing 
but that which he sees, history is altogether use¬ 
less. But a satisfactory degree of certainty is 
attainable on events of which we were not eye¬ 
witnesses ; and no one in this assembly doubts 
the signing of Magna Charta, or the battle of 
Agincourt, any more than if he had stood by, 
and seen the one fought, and the seals affixed 
to the other. We owe much to the integrity of 
others; and the mutual confidence on which 
society is founded, requires with justice our as¬ 
sent to thousands of events, which transpired 
long before we were born, or which, if contem¬ 
porary with ourselves, were transacted at some re¬ 
mote spot on the face of the globe. Who will 
affirm that Hume or Rapin, were incompetent 
to produce an history, which, making some al¬ 
lowances for human prejudices, is worthy the 
confidence and credit of our countrymen? Yet 
neither the one nor the other was an eye-witness 
of more than an insignificant portion of his 
voluminous production. But if, by drawing 
from pure sources, a man is to be deemed com^ 

m m 3 


534 


petent to relate facts of which he was not an 
eye-witness: then, the writers of the Bible, in 
those particular events of which confessedly they 
were not eye-witnesses, but which they affirm 
with confidence, are entitled to our credit, 
Moses, for instance, on these principles, is com¬ 
petent to the relation of every event recorded 
in the book of Genesis; although it is admitted 
that they took place before his birth, and ah 
though he goes back to the beginning of all 
things. From Adam to Noah, from Noah to 
Abraham, from Abraham to Joseph, and from 
Joseph to Moses, but four -persons are neces¬ 
sary to transmit events as they transpired ; and 
these four persons were Methuselah, Shem, Isaac, 
and Am ram, the grandfather of Moses. Those 
things of which the apostle Paul was not an 
eye-witness he most surely believed, because he 
lived with those who were the companions of 
our Lord through all his ministry, and were pre¬ 
sent during those very events which he received 
upon their testimony. There can be no question 
that he found them men of unshaken veracity, 
The disciple of Gamaliel was not likely to become 
the dupe of the designing. He must have had 
something like evidence to lead him to relinquish 
the fair prospect of worldly emolument for certain 
and inevitable suffering: he must have felt some¬ 
thing like conviction to destroy the prejudices 


535 


which he openly avowed, and which were suf¬ 
ficiently powerful to make him sanction the 
murder of Stephen. In every instance in which 
the writers of the Old and the New Testament 
were not eye-witnesses of the events which they 
recorded, it will be found, upon the closest scru¬ 
tiny, that they derived their evidence from the 
most authentic sources. We shall prove 


IV. THAT THEY WERE MEN OF INTEGRITY, IM¬ 
PARTIALITY, AND CANDOUR. 

That they were men of integrity we gather 
from the tacit concessions of their most invete¬ 
rate enemies. A thousand accusations were al- 
ledged against them equally cruel, injurious, 
and unfounded. Every possible effort was 
made to terrify and to silence them; and 
scourgings, and imprisonments, and death it¬ 
self, were added to menaces. They were charged 
with sedition, while their writings, their preach¬ 
ing, and their conduct, equally and powerfully 
enjoined, that their followers should submit 
“ to every ordinance of man, for the Lord’s sake.” 
They were unjustly accused of polluting the 
temple. It was said that they despised the law, 
the purity of which they exemplified in their 
lives. But their integrity was never questioned, 

M m 4 


536 

and their statement of facts was never denied. 
That which they affirmed, they affirmed openly: 
they affirmed on the spot stained with the Sa¬ 
viour’s blood, and on which the facts which 
they asserted were transacted: they affirmed 
before a whole people, who were capable of 
detecting imposition and exposing falsehood, 
if there had been either the one or the other, 
and whose determined enmity impelled them to 
seize every occasion against them : yet amid all 
this their integrity could not be disputed, and 
their veracity stood unimpeached. Nay, on all 
these occasions they boldly dared the trial, they 
challenged their adversaries to disprove their 
'Words, they defied their malice, and openly, and 
constantly, asserted— “ We are witnesses of these 
“ things P 

Their impartiality appears in every page of 
their writings. Their own failings are recorded 
with singular and unexampled fidelity. They offer 
no palliation of their conduct—they conceal no* 
thing—they alter nothing—they plead nothing. 
They sacrifice private feelings to the cause of 
truth. And with the same impartiality with which 
they record their own shame, they relate the weak¬ 
ness of their friends and fellow-disciples. We will 
not say, that no tear fell upon the line which 
consigned to everlasting remembrance every hu« 


537 

miliating circumstance, but that tear was not 
suffered to erase the narrative; we will not say, 
that their hand did not tremble as it wrote the 
sad history, but that hand firmly inscribed the 
truth, and gave it’s faithful evidence against the 
weakness of it’s master. Neither do they con¬ 
ceal a single circumstance of ignominy attend¬ 
ing either their Lord or themselves. They relate 
all the shame of his death, and the degradation 
to which their conscience compelled them to 
submit for his sake. 

Their candour is seen in this, that they never 
magnified the rage of their enemies: never re¬ 
presented their characters more deformed and 
sanguinary than they really were: never imputed 
to them motives which they did not avow: 
never reviled, never reproached them. When 
they wrote the life of their Lord, it was with¬ 
out eulogy: when they recorded his death, there 
is no attempt to inflame the mind of the reader: 
not a single remark is made throughout the 
whole narrative: if they wept (and surely they 
did weep) they wept in silence, and no complaint 
escaped from their pen. A plain, unvarnished 
tale, is told throughout, and is left to make its 
way, unassisted, to the heart and to the con¬ 
science. Where shall we find such historians? 
Even scepticism must admit their integrity, their 
impartiality, and their candour.* We advance 


538 


V. THAT THEY WERE WISE AND GOOD MEN. 

Who will call in question the understanding 
or the accomplishments of Moses? Under what 
circumstances of honour, has his name been 
transmitted through ages and generations, till, 
irradiated with all it's pristine glory, it has reach¬ 
ed even these latter days! To a mind far above 
the common standard—to talents the most illus- 

a 

trious, he added all the learning of the Egyp¬ 
tians. Born at the fountain-head of literature, 
he drank copious draughts of the salutary stream, 
Before him the celebrated lawgivers of anti¬ 
quity, although much later than this renowned 
legislator, shrink away, as the stars which shine 
through the night, fade before the first tints of 
the morning, and hide their diminished heads* 
when the sun uncovers his radiance. In like 
manner all the writers of the Old and New Tes¬ 
taments demand our respect as men of super- 
eminent talents, and of solid wisdom. No one 
can read those psalms which are ascribed to the 
king of Israel, and imagine that David was a, 
man of a common understanding. The fragments 
which have descended to us from Solomon, 
abundantly confirm the decision of the scriptures 
in naming him the wisest of men. He must 
be strangely destitute of taste who can read utv> 


539 

moved, the majestic and sublime productions of 
of Isaiah. We disdain to answer the bold, un¬ 
founded, ignorant assertions of the author of 
“ The Age of Reason,” who says, that “ a 
“ school'boy should be punished for producing 
“ a book so full of bombast and incongruity as 
“ the book called Isaiah.” A man who can 
thus speak of a production so truly sublime, 
upon general, we might say universal consent, 
has forfeited all claim to criticism; and he must 
feel something like degradation who should sit 
down to answer so palpable a misrepresentation. 
We pass over the words of Jesus Christ, for 
surely it will be admitted that “ never man 
“ spake as this man.” Luke rises before us as- 
claiming to rank high in respectability. His 
writings will appear to any unprejudiced mind 
impressed with the stamp of genius and of lite¬ 
rature. In support of this position is it neces¬ 
sary to do more than appeal to the short and 
elegant preface to his gospel, after which, hav¬ 
ing once for all introduced himself, he disap¬ 
pears, and the historian is lost in the narrative? 
“ Forasmuch as many have taken in hand to 
“ set forth in order a declaration of those things 
** which are most surely believed among us, 
“ even as they delivered them unto us, which 
from the beginning were eye-witnesses, and 
“ ministers of the word; It seemed good 


540 


u to me also, having had perfect understanding 
i( of all things from the very first, to write unto 
“ thee, in order, most excellent Theophilus, 
“ that thou mightest know the certainty of 
“ those things wherein thou hast been instruct- 
“ ed.” The apostle Paul is a name too great 
to be passed over in silence. Plis defence be¬ 
fore Agrippa is a master-piece of genuine elo¬ 
quence and feeling; and he who can deny it, 
after reading the sentence with which it closes, 
appears to us most unreasonably prejudiced, and 
irreclaimable by the force of evidence. “ Then 
“ Agrippa said unto Paul, Almost thou per- 
“ suadest me to be a Christian. And Paul said, 
“ I would to God, that not only thou, but also 
“ all that hear me this day, were both almost, 
“ and altogether such as I am—except these 
bonds f His writings from first to last dis¬ 
cover an extraordinary mind, and a fund of in¬ 
telligence, worthy a disciple who sat at the feet 
of Gamaliel. Those who were unlettered men, 
have no less a claim upon our respectful atten¬ 
tion. Who does not perceive a blaze of genius 
and of talent bursting through all the obscurity 
of their birth, and counteracting the original 
narrowness of their education? They were all 
wise men; and their wisdom carried with it 
the most decisive evidence that it was from 
above : it was “ first pure, then peaceable, gen- 


541 


tie, easy to be entreated, full of mercy and 
“ of good fruits, without partiality, and with- 
“ out hypocrisy.” 

We have pronounced but a small part of their 
eulogium in saying that they were wise men; 
for talents are often found united to vice: but 
they were also eminently good men. They 
were men. We do not design to hold them up 
to your view as perfect characters: for such a 
representation would neither accord with truth, 
nor agree with their pretensions: but they were 
as perfect as humanity in it’s most exalted 
state upon earth seems capable of being. The 
charges against the character of David have 
been heavy, but they have been as ably refuted* * 
The light which he enjoyed was small, com¬ 
pared with the meridian glory which illumines 
our walk through life. And he must have an 
hard heart, and a most unreasonable conscience, 
who can urge David's failings against him, with 
much severity, after the contrition which he 
felt and expressed. Considered in connection 
with the other, and excellent parts of his cha¬ 
racter, these defects resemble the dark spots, 
which, to a philosophic and scrutinizing eye, 
appear on the sun’s disk; but which to any un- 

... ■ —— - - J . 


* In Chandler’s Life of David. 




542 


assisted organ of vision, are swallowed up in 
the blaze of his glory. In the writings and 
the lives of the apostles, what piety, what bene¬ 
volence, what devotion, what love to God and 
to man, are visible! What genuine zeal did they 
manifest! A zeal distinguished from mere en¬ 
thusiasm, both in its object, and in it’s ten¬ 
dency! No good man can read these writings, 
such is their holy fervour, and such their ex¬ 
alted piety, without being made both wiser and 
better! Do you not discern in them hearts 
weaned from the present world, and fired with 
the glorious prospects of futurity ? Do you not 
perceive in all things an integrity which made 
them ardent in the support of their cause, and 
ready to suffer every extremity for it? Yet that 
integrity, and that ardour, mingled with hu¬ 
mility, temperance, mildness, goodness, and 
truth? Do they not continually insist upon 
these things as the genuine effects, the neces¬ 
sary consequences, and the distinguishing cha¬ 
racteristics, of their religion ? O let any un¬ 
prejudiced person calmly sit down to read their 
lives, where all their weaknesses appear, and 
where none of their faults are extenuated, and 
he must conclude that they were good men ! 

We might, without departing much from our 
plan, draw up by way of contrast the lives and 
actions of the principal adversaries of Revela- 


543 


tion, and oppose them to those of it's first as- 
sertors. We think that the confessions of 
Rousseau would look but ill when placed by 
the penitential tears of Peter, or the contrite 
sighs of David. The licentious life, and the 
gloomy death of Voltaire, would be a striking 
contrast to the labours, the patience, the perils, 
and above all, the triumphant expiring moments 
of Paul. We shall not, however, pursue this 
subject. These lives will be contrasted another 
day. But we will add—that before the patrons of 
infidelity speak so bitterly of the failings of Da¬ 
vid, they should place by his life, the conduct of 
it’s most strenuous, and most distinguished ad¬ 
vocates ; and the comparison would reflect but 
little honour, and little credit, upon them¬ 
selves. The writers of the Bible were wise and 
good men. We believe 


VI. THAT THEY HAD THE BEST MOTIVES IN ALk 
THAT THEY DID OR WROTE. 

We can only judge of motives fropi the ho¬ 
nest professions which men make, and the in¬ 
tegrity of conduct which confirms and esta¬ 
blishes these professions. And when we see 
them acting disinterestedly, and encountering 
Calamity under the profession of kindness to 


544 


others : when we are persuaded that in no one 
instance they seek to serve themselves: but that, 
on the contrary, the plan which they follow 
must terminate in their temporal ruin — we 
must give them credit for their professions, and 
may safely conclude that their motives are pure. 
Now it is easy to prove, that this was the case 
with the first adherents of revelation, and the 
first preachers of the gospel. Men are accus¬ 
tomed usually to act either from motives of be¬ 
nevolence, or from motives of interest. The 
prophets and apostles wrote and acted not from 
the latter, while there is a fulness of evidence 
that they were influenced by the former. Un¬ 
der interested motives we may include the love 
and hope of fame, of wealth, of applause, of 
whatever may tend to render the man more 
noted, and more respectable. By benevolent 
motives we understand, disinterested motives; 
comprising love to God and to man, apart from 
every selfish impulse; and such motives as will 
lead the man cheerfully to relinquish his own 
comforts for the benefit of society at large, or 
for conscience-sake. Now we will venture to 
make our appeal to infidelity itself, and to ask, 
whether the writers of the Bible have not a, 
fair and honourable claim to benevolent mo¬ 
tives? What interest had Moses in relinquishing 
the crown of Egypt, to head the insulted, out- 


545 


/ 


/ 


cast, enslaved Israelites, and to lead them through 
a perilous journey to the possession of a remote 
country, over the borders of which he himself 
never passed, and which he never saw, but at 
a distance? Had ambition or fame been his ob¬ 
ject, he had only to wait the death of Pharaoh, 
when, recommended as he was by talents, the 
choice of Egypt had probably fallen upon him, 
and with it’s armies at his command, with it’s 
forces under his controul, and with it’s resources 
for his resort, according to all human appearance, 
he might have effected his purpose with greater 
ease, and certainly would have enjoyed more 
temporal splendour. What interest had Isaiah, 
or any of the prophets, in pronouncing, and 
recording, denunciations which provoked their 
countrymen, and which superinduced not only 
immediate hardships and bitter imprisonments, 
but eventually terminated in their martyrdom? 
What interest had Luke to serve in overlooking 
a liberal and respectable profession as a phy¬ 
sician, to link his life and his fortunes with 
those of an houseless Nazarene, and a few out¬ 
cast Galileans, his wandering disciples ? What 
interest had Paul to serve, in descending from 
the sphere of applause and of honour in which 

he moved as a Pharisee, to encounter the dan- 

% 

ger, the disgrace, and the death annexed to a 
profession of Christianity ? What motives of in- 
* jr n 


546 

terest could lead the first propagators of the Chris¬ 
tian religion to provoke the fury of an enraged po¬ 
pulace, to drawdown upon themselves the wrath 
of the rulers, to oppose the prejudices not merely 
of their countrymen, but of the whole heathen 
world, to endure the loss of all things, and to 
suffer death itself, in defence of the doctrines 
which they promulgated, the precepts which 
they taught, or the facts which they related? 
Deluded men, infidelity may think, and call 
them: but interested men, no one, with truth, 
or even the semblance of truth, can aver that 
they were ! Let it not be said that they expect¬ 
ed applause, and were not acquainted with the 
sad consequences that would result from the 
line of conduct which they pursued. They 
were neither fools nor mad ; and common sense 
was sufficient to convince them of their danger. 
If they had not been originally suspicious of it, 
their master plainly predicted it; and they had 
before their eyes, the fearful evidence of what 
they were to expect, in his excruciating and 
ignominious death. They did not surely expect 
better treatment than their Lord : and no man 
could, with such an example before him, teach 
Christianity from interested motives. 

In justice to them, therefore, we ought to 
conclude, that they had the best of motives in 
all that they did and wrote. As this may be 


547 

gathered from their sufferings, so also may it 
be collected from all that they taught. Did 
they ever say any thing with a view to entice 
men, or to purchase the favour of the great and 
the noble? Did they flatter them by giving 
licence to the sins to which they were prone, or 
by permitting the indulgence of their tempers 
and lusts? Did they dazzle them with the 
promise of ease, comfort, splendour, fame, or 
emolument? Did they not oppose their preju¬ 
dices, their principles, their vices, and their 
passions? Did they not delineate Christianity in 
faithful colours, and paint all the ignominy and 
danger involved in a profession of it? Surely 
this was not the way to obtain human applause, 
or to serve interested motives! 

But what did they say of themselves ? Let us 
hear the apostle Paul explain his own motives to 
the elders of the Ephesian church, in the solemn 
moment of eternal separation from them. “ Ye 
“ know, from the first day that I came into 
“ Asia, after what manner I have been with 
“ you at all seasons, serving the Lord with all 
“ humility of mi mb and with many tears and 
“ temptations which befel me by the lying in 
“ wait of the Jews; and how I kept back no- 
“ thing that was profitable unto you, but have 
“ shewed you, and have taught you publicly, 
“ and from house to house, testifyingboth to the 

N n 2 


548 


“ Jews, and also to the Greeks, repentance to- 
ward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus 
“ Christ. And now, behold I go bound in the 
“ spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing the things 
“ which shall befal me there: Save that the 
“ Holy Ghost witnesseth in every.city, saying, 
“ that bonds and imprisonments abide me. But 
“ none of these things move me, neither count 
“ I my life dear unto myself, so that I might 
u finish my course with joy, and the ministry 
“ which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to 

**' testify the gospel of the grace of God"- 

“ Therefore watch, and remember that by the 
“ space of three years, I ceased not to warn 

“ every one night and day with tears"-“ I 

“ have coveted no mans silver, or gold, or 
“ apparel. Yea, ye yourselves know, that 
“ these hands have ministered to my necessi- 
“ ties, and to them that were with me. I have 
“ shewed you all tilings, how that so labouring 
“ ye ought to support the weak; and to re- 
° member the words of our Lord Jesus, how 
“ he said, It is more blessed to give than to 
“ receive/’—Is this the language of an inte¬ 
rested man? and above all of an interested man 
at such a moment? We will not multiply pas¬ 
sages in which similar protestations are used 
relative to their own conduct; and you are 
bpund to believe them, because neither their 




I 


549 

lives nor their doctrines were those of persons 
who are actuated by interested motives. Other¬ 
wise they would soon have relinquished so 
hopeless a scheme. At the very commence¬ 
ment of their labours, one was stoned*, 
another beheaded']', the greater part of them 
scattered over strange cities;]:, and their cause 
and their sect everywhere spoken against]]. You 
see them, nevertheless, stedfast, immoveable, 
abounding in the work of the Lord, preach¬ 
ing Jesus with all diligence, knowing that their 
labour was not in vain in the Lord. Surely, 

V ' 

we must admit, that they were actuated by the 
best of motives, in all that they did and wrote. 
Observe, 

VII. THAT THEY THEMSELVES BELIEVED, AND 
WERE GUIDED BY THE TRUTHS WHICH THEY 
TAUGHT. 

This proposition stands allied to the preceding 
one, and the same train of reasoning will fairly 
establish it. They suffered death for the cause 
which they attempted to promulgate, and this 
was a decisive evidence that they believed it. 


* Acts vii. 59 . t Acts xii. 2. 

\ Acts viii. 1*4. xi. 19. || Acts xxviii. 22. 

N n 3 


V 




550 


It is readily granted that martyrdom is no evi¬ 
dence of the goodness of a cause, or of the truth 
of the religion which the man believes, and for 
which he dies. Many have suffered in a bad 
cause; and many have died for a false religion. 
The enthusiasm of a Roman more than once 
led him to sacrifice himself for his country; 
and superstition has also boasted her martyrs— 
still boasts them on the plains of Indostan, and 
among untutored savages. Martyrdom, how¬ 
ever, we may fairly assert is a proof of sincerity 
in the person who suffers; and this is all that 
we wish to prove in the present instance. We 
urge the sufferings and the death of the apos¬ 
tles upon you, not as an evidence of the truth 
of their religion (it is founded on stronger ar¬ 
guments than these), but as a decisive proof of 
their sincerity, and as an invincible demonstra¬ 
tion that they really believed what they taught. 
You may add to this the simplicity of their 
manners, of their narratives, of their preaching, 
and of their lives, strongly presumptive, to say 
the least, of their unaffected sincerity. Nor 
will any man be able to investigate their cha¬ 
racters and deportment, without acquitting 
them of all design to deceive. The same ar¬ 
guments will hold good in favour of the writers 
of the Old Testament. The prophets suffered 
death for their predictions, and those who did 


551 


not, manifested, by their lives, their belief of 
the truths which they taught. 

They not 'only believed, but were guided by 
these things. Those only can enter into the 
argument by which we establish this assertion, 
who are accustomed to read the Bible; and in¬ 
deed he who opposes Revelation, ought, in rea¬ 
son and injustice, to be as well acquainted with 
the sacred writings, as the man who professedly 
maintains it. Upon a comparison between the 
lives of the apostles and prophets, and their 
writings, we are persuaded it will be found, that 
the one is an exact transcript of the other. The 
benevolence and charity which they recom¬ 
mended to others, they felt themselves. The 
love to Jesus Christ which they taught, warm¬ 
ed their own bosoms. He was the object of 
their faith, of their hope, of their joy, of their 
worship. In him all their wishes and expecta¬ 
tions centred; and for him, they were willing 
to live or to die. They exemplified the Chris¬ 
tian patience and meekness, which they recom¬ 
mended to their hearers, in their own resigna¬ 
tion and uncomplaining sufferings. They could 
make their appeal to their conversation and say, 
“ Brethren, be ye followers of us, even as we 
“ are also of Christ.” Upon every investiga¬ 
tion of their lives and writings, it will be found 
that they themselves were guided by the truths 

n n 4 


552 


which they taught to others. One more propo¬ 
sition will conclude what we have to advance 
respecting the writers of the Bible; and indeed 
it may be considered as a concluding inference 
from all the foregoing series of reasoning. It is 


VIII. THAT IT APPEARS UPON THE WHOLE, 
THAT THEY NEITHER COULD BE DECEIVED, 
NOR WOULD DECEIVE, IN ALL THAT THEY 
WROTE AND ASSERTED. 

That they could not be deceived, is evident 
from the nature of the case. We have said that 
they were for the most part eye-witnesses of 
what they recorded; this was eminently the 
fact in respect of the apostles. They conversed 
with Jesus Christ—they saw all the miracles 
that he wrought—they were present when he 
expired on the cross. When he rose from the 
dead, he appeared to them, and to “ above five 
“ hundred brethren at once.” He ascended to 
heaven in their presence. He afterwards ap¬ 
peared to Paul in the way to Damascus, and 
to John in the Isle of Patmos. — We have 
proved the same respecting the writers of the 
Old Testament, and particularly Moses. We 
have shewn, that what they did not see, they 
derived from the most certain evidences, and 


drew from the purest sources. Now such was 
the nature of the circumstances which they re¬ 
lated, and the nature of the evidences which 
they possessed, that they could not be deceived. 
This we think a fair inference from the general 
train of our reasoning. 

And it is equally evident from their charac¬ 
ters, that they 'would not deceive. To suppose 
them capable of this, is to lay them under the 
blackest of all imputations, and to discover har¬ 
dened guilt of which human nature, depraved 
as it is, appears hardly capable. We have proved 
that they themselves could not be mistaken: 
then , they must, if they deceived at all, have 
voluntarily become “ false witnesses of God,” 
and have forged falsehoods from first to last. 
Their lives were, on these principles, one con¬ 
tinued scene of perjury, hypocrisy, and blas¬ 
phemy. Pretending that God sanctioned their 
preaching, and sent them for this purpose, while 
in their hearts they knew it to be false, was im¬ 
piety beyond almost the power of conception! 
In every instance they would be found to be 
liars ; and they must, for .no possible advantage, 
but in face of every danger, have deceived their 
fellow men solemnly and deliberately, day after 
day, through all their lives. They must have 
confederated to do this; and have stricken hands 
upon an engagement more terrible than death, 

l 


554 


and blacker than the designs of hell itself ever 
unfolded. This impious conduct would have 
been cruel to the last degree.^ They were tri¬ 
fling with the dearest and most important inte¬ 
rests of mankind — worse than trifling, they 
were consigning them in cold blood to infamy, 
to torment, and to ruin. They were leading 
them to rely for peace and salvation upon a 
man whom they knew to be an impostor, and 
who had suffered publicly as a criminal. They 
were bringing all the calamities inseparable 
from their religion, knowing it to be false, upon 
the people whom they deceived. They exposed 
the lives of the innocent, in leading them to 
patronize a guilty fraud (by persuading them 
that it was true) which the rulers did not sanc¬ 
tion ; and their blood, on this supposition, with 
the tears of their orphans, of their widows, of 
their bereaved families, must have mingled 
with the perjury and the blasphemy of their de¬ 
ceivers, in calling down the vengeance of hea¬ 
ven against a combination so horrible. They 
would, in a word, have been a society of the 
most infamous, cruel, abandoned wretches, that 
ever lived on the face of the globe: if, as they 
could not be deceived, they were capable of 
deceiving on a subject so important! And the 
men who confederated with them in formin£r 
the other parts of the scripture, must have en- 


V' M 

ODD 

tered into a plot to destroy thousands of lives 
here, to send the most dreadful calamities on 
the earth, and to ruin the interests of men for 
ev er! 

Now calmly examine the writings, the cha¬ 
racter, the deportment of the writers of the 
Old Testament and of the apostles of Jesus 
Christ, and say whether they appear to you to 
be the men capable of such deception, or likely 
to form a plot so horrible ? What could induce 
them to do it? What interest had they to serve 
by it ? It is not possible ! But as they could not 
be deceived, so every thing conspires to prove 
that they would not deceive. 

The fact is simply this. Their original ta¬ 
lents were not considerable: their education 
was contracted; their sphere of life of the lowest 
order : their fears and unbelief abundant: their 
numbers small; and their minds bowed in the 
first instance by the prejudices of their country, 
all which prejudices were against a suffering 
Messiah. When they consented to share his 
ignominy, it was from a conviction resulting 
from the purity of his life, the force of truth in 
his teaching, the integrity of his character, and 
not from any resemblance which they traced 
between his situation and their preconceived 
opinions. Every day developed something re¬ 
specting him which disappointed their expec^ 


556 


tations, excited their astonishment, offended 
their pride, and opposed^ their views. Their 
minds were slowly enlightened, and they had 
not at the moment of his resurrection very clear 
views, either of the prophecies respecting him, 
or of his testimony respecting himself. Let 
these circumstances be calmly considered, let 
the amount of them be deliberately weighed, 
and it will be evident to every reflecting mind, 
that it would be a miracle of the first order, if 
twelve, or rather eleven (for one of them be¬ 
trayed the Lord) such men; should have at¬ 
tempted to palm, as a fact, an invention upon 
the very people among whom it was said to 
have taken place: that they should have had 
the genius to project such a design : and above 
all, that they should have been successful in 
disseminating their fabrication, and in esta¬ 
blishing it upon a basis which eighteen centu¬ 
ries have not been able to undermine! Such a 
supposition is too palpably absurd to bear rea¬ 
soning upon. If it be objected that their sub¬ 
sequent deportment manifests genius, firmness, 
unbounded intellect, and astonishing energy of 
mind, a question arises, what was the cause of 
this change of character? We answer that this 
fact is in itself an evidence of the truth of their 
mission, inasmuch as it resulted from the suf¬ 
ferings and the resurrection of the Saviour: it 


557 

took place at a moment when there were thou¬ 
sands of witnesses present—“ Parthians, and 
“ Medes, and Elamites, and the dwellers in Meso- 
4i potamia, and in Judea, and Cappadocia, in Pon- 
<c tus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, in Egypt 
“ and in the parts of Libya about Cyrene, and 
“ strangers of Rome, Jews and proselytes, 

“ Cretes and Arabiansit was evinced by the 
gift of tongues, so that the multitude wondered 
to hear themselves addressed everv man in his 
own language, while many of them knew that 
these very persons were before ignorant and 
unlettered ; and it was accompanied by miracu¬ 
lous powers, which their adversaries could nei¬ 
ther gainsay nor resist, and which were in force 
nearly a century. 

The appeals which they made were not the 
language of imposition. Neither in their preach¬ 
ing, nor in their writings, did they ever lose 
sight of the facts asserted in the gospels, and 
especially of the death of their master, in all 
it’s circumstances, and all it's consequences. 
They did not cease to press it upon the memory, 
the feelings, the hearts, and the consciences of 
those who attended their ministry, the major 
part of whom were, in most instances, the 
murderers of the Lord of life and glory. They 
laid this sin to their charge, with undaunted 
courage, with invincible perseverance, with 


558 


unshaken fidelity, when they said— <f Ye de- 
“ nied the Holy One, and the Just, and desired 
“ a murderer to be granted unto you, and killed 
“ the Prince of Life, whom God hath raised 
“ from the dead: whereof zee are witnesses/’ 
We have seen these faithful appeals confirmed 
in their sufferings, this Hold and generous tes¬ 
timony written with their blood, this strong 
and resistless evidence sealed by their death ! 

On these points we have the concessions of 
enemies. These things were not done in a 
corner. Others were also eye-witnesses of this 
event. The adversaries of the primitive Chris¬ 
tians cast in their teeth the poverty of their 
masters life, and the ignominy of his death. 
By these means, while they designed to affix 
indelible disgrace to the cause of Christianity, 
they decidedly proved that the facts recorded in 
the gospels respecting Jesus of Nazareth were 
strictly and indisputably true. In their public 
records, in their judicial statements, in their epis¬ 
tolary correspondence, the sufferings of the apos¬ 
tles and first disciples of our Lord were avouched, 
and their firmness branded with the name of 
madness. It was a subject of surprise and amaze¬ 
ment to the heathen world that men would sub¬ 
mit to the most horrible tortures, that the cruelty 
of human ingenuity could invent, rather than 


559 

deny a poor, outcast, obscure Jew, who suffered, 
at the instigation of his countrymen, the death 
of a murderer ! Ah, they knew not Jesus of 
Nazareth! knew not the secret and resistless 
bond which held his disciples to him! knew 
not the sweetness of his love ! But in the mean 
time, they have left to every succeeding gene¬ 
ration a decided testimony that these things 
were so*. 

We detain you only to offer two concluding 
remarks respecting the best mode of reading 
the Bible to advantage. The first shall regard . 
the allowances which should be made in con¬ 
sulting this sacred volume. Whoever has paid 
any, the least, attention to it, must recollect 
that there are allusions to customs which exist 
no longer; and that it’s sublime and poetic 
parts are filled with figures of speech not alto- 
aether familiar to us. We are surrounded 
by imagery, and reading a language perfectly 
new—more bold and striking than these colder 
climes and tongues usually exhibit. When you 
take up the scriptures make these several allow¬ 
ances. Remember that you are reading the 
record of ages which have rolled away, and of 
nations, which have either long since perished, 


* See the note at the end of this Lecture. 






560 


or which exist no longer in the same form. 
You should allow for the swelling, metaphoric 
style of the East . Their mode of expression is 
always bold and magnificent beyond the imagi¬ 
nation of an European; and the face of their 
country is also widely different. You must re¬ 
member the customs then prevalent: these change 
perpetually with the lapse of time; and the 
manners of antiquity were altogether distinct 
from those sanctioned bv the fashion of the 
present day. Consider the countries in •which 
they lived Every country has a mode of opera¬ 
tion, and habits, peculiar to itself. Recollect 
the persons to whom they wrote: persons who 
Avere conversant with the metaphors employed, 
and with the facts recorded: persons who were 
contemporary Avith them, and Avho had the ad- 
\ r antage of making appeals to things and to 
evidences which exist no longer. And while 
you call these things to your memory, do not 
forget the changes which have taken place in all 
these particulars. 

Our second remark shall relate to the spirit: 
in Avhich the Bible should be read. Consult it 
divested so far as possible of prejudice, and 
with a sincere desire both to attain improve¬ 
ment, and to search out the truth. The inves¬ 
tigation which we recommend, lies equally be¬ 
tween that inactivity which slumbers for ever 


561 


over things acknowledged, and that impetuous 
temerity which relying* upon it's own powers 
disdains assistance, attempts a flight beyond 
the precincts of lawful subjects, and with licen¬ 
tious boldness pries into those “ secret things 
“ which belong to God.” Some float for ever 
on the surface of admitted truths, fearful to 
rise above the level over which they have ho¬ 
vered from the first moment of consciousness. 
These resemble those birds which feed upon 
the insects dancing on the water, who never 
rise into the air, but always skim the surface of 
the lake, on the borders of which they received 
life. Others, on bold, adventurous wing, rise 
into the trackless regions of mystery, till they 
sink from the pride of their elevation, perplexed 
and exhausted. These, by aiming at too much, 
lose every thing. Because they have attempted 
unsuccessfully to investigate that, which God 
has been pleased to put out of the reach of hu¬ 
man comprehension, they will not believe any 
thing—they embrace a system of universal scep¬ 
ticism. So Noah’s dove beheld on every side 
a boundless expansion of waters; and whether 
she rose or sunk, was equally bewildered, and 
found no rest for the sole of her foot. There is 
one point of difference, and that is, that she 
returned to the ark; but those whom we have 
described, too often are found to turn despisers, 

o o 


562 

who wonder and perish. But the Christian is 
bold in investigating all that God has submitted 
to his researches, attempts every thing leaning 
on Almighty energy, and relies with implicit 
confidence upon the written word. So the eagle 
rises boldly into the air, keeping the sun in 
view, and builds her nest upon a rock. 

We would not have you, with the inactive 
and supine, always coast the shore: nor with 
the infidel venture into the boundless ocean 
without pilot, or compass, or ballast, or anchor: 
exposed equally to the quicksands, to the rocks, 
to the whirlpool, and to the tempest: but we 
are desirous that, like the Christian, you should 
boldly face, and patiently endure the storm, 
with the Bible as your compass, Hope as your 
anchor, God as your pilot, and Heaven as your 
countrv. 

\ X 


i 








.\ 


NOTES. 


♦ 


It would be a very easy thing to produce evidences from all con¬ 
temporary historians of the sufferings of the apostles, of their un¬ 
shaken firmness, and ot the undiminished and resistless attractions 

V 

ot Christianity : but we shall content ourselves with the selection of 
a few. 

Tacitus relates the fact of the persecution raised against the Chris¬ 
tians by Nero, and describes it as attended by “ circumstances of 
“ the utmost rigour and cruelty.’* 

Tacit. Annul, lib. xv. cap. 44. 

Suetonius bears the same testimony to the sufferings of these pri¬ 
mitive saints, when he says, “ The Christians were severely pu¬ 
nished—a class of men devoted to a novel and mischievous super¬ 
stition." 

Suet. Nero Claud. Cas. cap. xvi. 

Pliny describes their worship, while he condemns what he calls 
their obstinacy, and confesses that they were harmless in their de¬ 
portment. u They were accustomed," he says, “ to assemble, and 
tC to sing hymns to Christ, as to God." Soliti essent convenire, car- 
menque Christo quasi Deo dicere. 

Plin. in Epist. 

An ancient superstition, the worship of Jesus Christ as God is, 
if it be indeed what it is represented by Unitarians—idolatry! 

The ancient fathers bear the same testimony with these profane 
historians: and they indeed shared the calamities which they de¬ 
scribed. Justin Martyr says—“ So far from repenting of your sins" 

00 2 




564 


NOTES, 


(in crucifying the Saviour) u ye sent men of distinguished talents 
“ through every land, to represent Christians as atheists, and to 
(t disseminate in their discourses all those evil reports of us which 
“ those have raised who knew us not!” 

Just. Mart. Dial, cum Tryph. p. 171. Thirlb. 

Yet, amid all this virulence of opposition, the cause of Christianity 
grew; and while their enemies raved, “ To the lions with them,*' the 
whole world beheld them rising on every side as willing to suffer, as 
their adversaries were eager to afflict, But we shall say nothing 
further. If any man desires a confirmation of the preceding Lecture, 
he has only to read Justin Martyr, and Tertullian, 


565 


LECTURE XIV. 

f • i . 7 . 

CONCLUDING LECTURE . 

THE UNSEARCHABLE GOD : OR, AN AT¬ 
TEMPT TO PROVE AN ANALOGY BE¬ 
TWEEN THE RELIGION OF NATURE 
AND THAT OF THE BIBLE, BY SHEW¬ 
ING THAT THE SAME OBSCURITY 
WHICH OVERSHADOWS REVELATION, 
EQUALLY OVERSPREADS NATURE AND 
PROVIDENCE. 


JOB XXXVI. 14. 

I 


Lo , these are parts of his ways , but how little a 
portion is heard of him ? but the thunder of 
his power , who can understand? 


.Man is a needy, dependent creature, from 
his birth to his death. His first cry is the voice 
of want and helplessness; his last tear flows 

o o 3 




I 


566 

from the same source; and in no one interme¬ 
diate period of his life, can he be pronounced 
independent. His eye, the moment it is open¬ 
ed, is turned upon another for assistance. His 
limbs must be sheltered from the cold: his nu¬ 
triment provided, and his wants supplied by the 
care and exertions of others: or he would perish 
in the hour of his birth. A few months expand 
his limbs; and then a new train of wants suc¬ 
ceeds. He must be watched with incessant vigi¬ 
lance, and guarded with unceasing care and 
anxiety, against a thousand diseases, which 
wait to precipitate him to a premature grave. 
The quivering flame of an existence scarcely 
communicated, is exposed to sudden and furious 
blasts, and it requires all a parent's skill to in¬ 
terpose a screen which may prevent its extinc¬ 
tion ; and, alas! after all, such interpositions as 
human skill and tenderness can supply, are 
often ineffectual, and the prevailing blast ex¬ 
tinguishes the sickly fire. 

The child begins to think, and a new field of 
exertion is opened to the mother. He needs 
direction, and is dependent upon her wisdom 
and affection for his earliest sources of informa¬ 
tion. She watches and facilitates the dawn of 

/ 

reason. She teaches her child for what end he 
came into the world; and in language adapted 
to his capacity, exhibits to the enquiring mind, 

5 


567 

and pours into the listening ear, his high and 
immortal destination. Oh, then with what 
anxiety she watches the speaking countenance! 
With what skill she directs the passions! With 
what assiduity she strives to eradicate, or at 
least to bring into subjection his visible pro¬ 
pensity to evil, and the impulses of a depraved 
nature! Who among us cannot look back to 
this early period, and remember a mother’s 
short, impressive conversation—her entreaties— 
her caresses—her restrictions—and her tears? 

The boy advances in wisdom, and in stature, 
and in strength : but he is still dependent. And 
now he must pass into other hands. There are 
many things which it is necessary for him to 
know, and to learn, in order to his passage 
through life with respectability, which it is not 
a mother’s province to teach him. Besides, it is 
needful that he should sojourn for a season with 
strangers, to prepare him for the approach of 
that time, when he must quit the paternal roof 
for ever, and force his way through the wide 
world! 

Grown up at length to manhood, he is still 
dependent. He lives by conferring and receiv¬ 
ing mutual offices of kindness. It is not good 
for him to be alone. He links his fortunes and 
his interests, his hopes and his fears, his joys 
and his sorrows, with those of another. His 

004 


568 


duties, and his responsibilities, multiply upon 
him. The circle is widened. He finds others 
dependent upon him, while he is not himself 
independent. And all his difficulties and suf¬ 
ferings are lightened by being divided. 

Behold him stretched upon the bed of death, 
having reached the extremity of this transient 
existence, still a poor, dependent, needy crea¬ 
ture ! To that heart he looks for sympathy : 
that bosom must support his languishing head : 
that hand must adjust the pillow, and adminis¬ 
ter the cordial, and wipe away the dew of death, 
and close the extinguished eye. Into the bo¬ 
som of his companion through life, or of his 
child, or of his friend, he breathes the last 
sigh! 

Revelation meets man on the terms of his 
nature; addresses him, and suffers him to ad- 
dress God, as a needy dependent creature. It 
proves it's divine origin by its adaptation to the 
wants and the wishes of humanity. It is di¬ 
rected to every man, as the son of Adam, and 
the child of sorrow, and the slave of ignorance. 
But vain man will be wise : will not be instruct¬ 
ed : will believe nothing which he cannot com- 
prehend; and rejecting the truth, will not 
come to the light, lest his deeds should be re¬ 
proved. 

When we speak of magnitude and diminu- 


569 

tiveness, of beauty and homeliness, of wisdom 
and folly, it is by comparison; and each of 
these terms are exchanged, the former for the 
latter, when the objects to which they were 
applied, are placed by the side of something 
more magnificent, more lovely, more sapient. 
The productions of human skill are grand ; and 
we pronounce the “ solemn temple” magnifi¬ 
cent, when contrasted with surrounding and 
inferior buildings : but when set in comparison 
with the temple of the sky, it is magnificent 
no longer—it shrinks into nothing. I see a 
picture of the evening: I admire the painter's 
art in so judiciously blending his light and his 
shade: a soft and sober tint overspreads the 
whole piece, and I pronounce it beautiful;—but 
when I compare it with the sunset of nature, 
when I see the west inflamed with ethereal fire, 
blushing with ten thousand vivid and various 
splendours, while the distant mist slowly creeps 
aloii£ the line of the horizon, and forms a con- 
trast to the brilliancy above it, the effort of art 
is swallowed up in the sublimity of nature— 
and it is beautiful no longer. I admire the 
genius and the understanding of the philoso¬ 
pher ; I reverence the superior intelligence of 
a Solomon; I look up humbled to a Newton, 
exploring the immensity of yonder firmament, 
reducing the apparent confusion of it’s orbs to 



order, laying the planetary system under laws, 
tracing their orbits, and scrutinizing their na- 
ture—and I pronounce these, wise men : but I 
raise my eyes—and behold an higher order of 
creatures around the throne of God, before 
whom even Newton is a child; and presuming 
into “ the heaven of heavens,” I am lost in 
ii nr, who charges even these superior beings 
“ with folly.” 

The powers of the human mind are said to 
be large and capacious : they are so when com¬ 
pared with those of every other terrestrial being 
in the creation of God. Man walks abroad, the 
monarch of this world. Of all the diversified 
tribes which the hand of Deity formed, into 
man alone was “ breathed the breath of life, 
“ and he became a living soul.” The animal 
soon reaches his narrow standard, and never 
passes it. The powers of man are in a constant 
state of progression; and probably in the world 
of spirits they will be found to be illimitable. 
But whatever they may be in their nature, they 
are at present contracted in their operations. 
To what do they amount when called into ac¬ 
tion? To speak a few languages : to decypher a 
few more in a various character: to ascertain 
here and there a cause by tracing it upwards 
from it’s effects: to number seven planets re¬ 
volving round the sun : to send imagination 


into infinite space in search of other systems, 
till she is bewildered and tired in her progress: 
to float on the bosom of the air suspended from 
a globe of silk; or to sail over the surface of 
the ocean in a vessel of his own construction : 
to ascend the hoary summit of the loftiest moun¬ 
tain, or to penetrate a fathom or two the sur¬ 
face of the earth: these are the boundaries of 
human effort. And in searching out the little 
he is capable of learning, what difficulties he 
must meet! what embarrassments he must sur¬ 
mount! what labours he must undergo! what 
time he must expend ! And after all, how little 
has he gained! how much remains unexplored! 
how uncertain, and probably how erroneous, 
are his best grounded conclusions! And if we 
elevate our thoughts to those spirits, whose 
powers in our limited apprehension are un¬ 
bounded, we shall find upon enquiry that they 
also are limited creatures. There are subjects 
present to the Divine Mind which the angels 
do not know: mysteries, which the capacity of 
Gabriel cannot fathom, and which the intelli- 
gence of a seraph cannot unravel. Iiow much 
less “ man who is a worm, and the son of man 
who is but a worm ?” 

The subject for discussion this night, is 
thus proposed— The unsearchable God; or, 
aN' Attempt to prove an Analogy be- 


572 

TWEEN TIIE RELIGION OF NATURE AND THAT 
of the Bible, by shewing that the same 
Obscurity which overshadows Revelation, 

EQUALLY OVERSPREADS NATURE AND PROVI¬ 
DE >. CE. 

Of this unsearchable Being, this infinite 
Mind, Job writes; and we are now to contem¬ 
plate rather what we do not know of him, than 
that which we are able to comprehend : since 
upon the closest investigation of the whole 
which he has submitted to our researches, we 
are compelled to conclude, “ Lo, these are parts 
“ of his ways, and how little a portion is heard 
“ of him? but the thunder of his power, who 
“ can understand ?” We shall apply these 
words, in order to the developement of our 
subject, 

I. To the Works of Creation: 

II. To the Mysteries of Providence: 

III. To the Invisible Worlds: 

IV. To the Word of Revelation ;—and 
this arrangement is justified by the whole con¬ 
nection of the text. We apply them, 

i. to the works of creation. 

“ He stretcheth out the north over the empty 
“ place, and hangeth the earth upon nothing.” 


573 

To the first gaze of man newly-created, the 
temple of the sky presented itself, filled with 
glorious objects, which furnished food for his 
curiosity, and employment for the new-born 
powers of his mind. lie saw the whole ex¬ 
pansion covered with stars twinkling through 
the blue ether. He beheld the sun rise in the 
east, and disappear behind the western hills. 
The moon occupied his vacated seat in the hea¬ 
vens, and every night changed her hour of 
rising. As yet the laws by which these “ greater 
“ lights” are governed were unknown; and 
whether the lesser sparks were mere ornaments 
of the curtain stretched out on everv side, or 
worlds and suns diminished by distance, the 
man doubted: for in the infancy of time, phi¬ 
losophy had not kindled her torch, and every 
thing was to be learned. He regarded it, how¬ 
ever, as a scene of magnificence; and consi¬ 
dered the whole as the work of him, “ parts of 
u whose ways” only, are after all submitted to 
our investigation. 

As years rolled on, a multitude of researches 
into nature were instituted. Art lent her aux¬ 
iliary powers : a few instruments were invented 
to aid the eye, or to help the imagination ; and 
a regular enquiry into the secret laws of this 
o-reat universe, was formed and prosecuted. 
Time gradually matured the crude and undi- 


574 

gested hypotheses of the enlightened mind. 
Each man took his department. One applied 
the telescope to the organ of vision, and ascer¬ 
tained the nature, and read the laws, of yonder 
shining orbs. Another bent his attention to 
the productions of the globe, and to the animals 
that move upon it’s surface. A third investi¬ 
gated the properties of water and of air, and 
the several uses to which they are applicable. 
A fourth studied the structure of the human 
frame, and applied his knowledge to the pur¬ 
pose of relieving the springs of life. These all 
were still acquainted only with “ parts of his 
“ ways. 

When the astronomer has spent his whole 
life in reading the splendid volume which the 
night unfurls, what has he at length learned ? 
He has proved that the globe on which we live 
is spherical: that it turns upon it's axis once in 
twenty-four hours, and revolves round the sun 
in twelve months: that yonder glorious orb, 
the centre of our system, is a body of fire*: 
that the planets are probably worlds like our 
own : that the moon appears to have seas and 
continents, islands and mountains : thus far can 
he go, but no further ! He launches into iii.fi- 


* 


See the note at the end of this Lecture. 






oo 


* 


nite space, which Job here calls “ the empty 
“ place,” and is lost! Those lights that sparkle 
at distances so immense, may, or may not, be 
suns, and the centres of other systems. All 
is uncertainty and perplexity ; and the comet 
that shoots across the system of which our own 
world is a part, wheels through it’s orbits, and 
round the sun, flies off, and derides the efforts 
of man, to describe it’s sphere, or to foretel it’s 
return ! “ Lo, these are parts of his ways f 
Human ingenuity and human courage have 
been exhausted in reiterated attempts to ap¬ 
proach the poles : but life cannot be sustained 
among their horrors. The spark of existence 
is quenched amid snows that never melt: ices, 
that resist the impression of the sun’s distant 
rays : a winter that never ceases to rage: a cold 
that freezes the vitals! And if the man were 
able to reach these extremities of the globe, 
what could he learn more than Job ascertained 

thousands of years back : that “ he stretcheth 

%/ 

a out the north over the empty place, and 
“ hangeth the earth upon nothingthat hav¬ 
ing suspended the globe, and drawn it's orbit, 
it hangs self-sustained, as human skill could not 
balance a feather. Philosophy needs poles to 
explain it’s revolutions; and imagination must 
be assisted by supposing a line drawn through 

the globe and extended obliquely to the north 

l 


576 

star: these things the contraction of our pow¬ 
ers require science to supply, that we may com¬ 
prehend more easily the laws of nature; but he 
who made the world gave it not these encum¬ 
brances, and it is poised in empty space, with¬ 
out any support but his command.—Lo, these 
“ are parts of his ways.” 

He who spends his life in scrutinizing the 
minutiae of nature is puzzled at every step of 
his investigation ; and in the open fields under¬ 
stands as little of the unsearchable God, as the 
astronomer who wanders bewildered among the 
planets. A blade of grass, an ear of wheat, 
an acorn, plunges him into difficulties, from 
which neither reason nor philosophy can extri¬ 
cate him. He knows not how that diminutive 
and spiral leaf, upon which he tramples, grows 
and vegetates! Why must that grain of corn 
die, before it can spring up ? and how is it, that 
a particle in it no larger than an atom, the only 
particle that survives the corruption of the 
grain, will multiply, and increase, and produce 
“ thirty, sixty, an hundred fold?” How incon¬ 
ceivable that an insignificant acorn should con¬ 
tain all the component principles of a stately 
oak, the pride of the forest! In fact, a particle 
of sand, and a drop of water, are replete with 
subjects of curiosity and of wonder. The air 
which we breathe, refuses to submit the whole 


/ 


577 

of it’s properties to our researches. In vain it 
is attempted to be exhausted, compressed, tor¬ 
tured—it is understood to be elastic, to rest 
with an incredible pressure upon the surface of 
the body equally on all parts, and we cannot 
press the matter further. He who bestowed it 
alone can make the thin fluid which the lungs 
inhale to sustain life, the vehicle of death : and 
he can heighten its rarification to a pitch too 
subtile for the organs adapted to it’s action, or 
load it with gross and fatal vapours, and thus 
constitute it the instrument of mortality in ano¬ 
ther shape.—“ Lo, these are parts of his ways.” 

He who attends to the structure of the hu¬ 
man frame, may, from the little knowledge of 
it’s parts which he is able to obtain, trace the 
progress of disease, and allay the fermentation 
and fever of the blood, by medicine, or by dimi¬ 
nishing the quantity of the heated fluid; he may 

/ 

assist the efforts of nature, and counteract in 
some measure, by the skilful application of 
science, the power of disease; but he cannot 
restore a single fibre destroyed, nor protract the 
life a moment beyond it’s appointed period; 
and, after all, he can know but the more obvious 
parts of this complicated machine, while it’s 
secret springs escape his most diligent re^ 
searches.-—“ Lo, these are parts, of his ways, 

“ and how little a portion is heard of him ?” As 

p p 


578 

in the works of Creation, so is the Deity 
equally unsearchable, 


II. IN THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE. 

rc He holdeth back the face of his throne, 
“ and spreadeth his cloud upon it.” 

Most eminently in this respect “parts” only 
“ of his ways” are submitted to our understand¬ 
ing ; and he who objects to Revelation, because 
it involves in it mysteries which he cannot 
fathom, ought, to be consistent, on the same 
principles to deny the superintendence of Pro¬ 
vidence, to reject the religion of nature (so 
called) and to doubt his own existence, all of 
which include an equal and correspondent de¬ 
gree of obscurity and uncertainty. The history 
of the world presents scenery incessantly chang¬ 
ing; and without being able to assign a reason 
for it, we see this nation, rising into distinction, 
and that, falling into irretrievable desolation. 
One empire is swallowed up of another. The 
politics of this world present a discordant chaos, 
where all sorts of contrarieties are blended to¬ 
gether; and it is the voice of God alone that 
can hush the uproar, and silence the strife; the 
hand of God alone that can harmonize these 
contending principles, and reconcile these vio- 

I 


579 

lent oppositions ; and the wisdom of God alone 
that can command a beautiful world to emerge 
from this dark, disordered, formless abyss. Here, 
we see a man signalizing himself upon this great 
theatre, led by an invisible hand, surmounting 
opposition, and performing seeming impossibi¬ 
lities. The strength of nations melts before 
him ; and with resistless energy he overruns 
with his forces the mightiest kingdoms. lie 
goes on to add dominion to dominion, till he 
has subjugated the world; and this, for no ap¬ 
parent reason ! Such was Alexander; and mo¬ 
dern history may be thought to present his 
counterpart! Again, we see a large empire dis¬ 
membered—-swallowed up in a night, or gra¬ 
dually mouldering by the revolt of this and the 

other province-all apparently the work of 

chance—all indisputably the operation of an 
infinite, and unsearchable Agent. So the ex¬ 
tent of Alexanders conquests, was equalled only 
by their rapidity; and with correspondent velo- 
city, after his death, his empire hastened to 
ruin : till Rome trod in his footsteps, and again 
held the world in chains. So Cyrus was con¬ 
ducted by an invisible hand to victory; and 
Babylon fell in a single night. 

By the aid of Revelation we obtain a little 
light on this obscure subject. We are led be¬ 
hind the scene, and a “part" of the whole is 

p p 3 




580 


developed. One or two of the wheels of the 
machine are submitted to our examination, that 
w r e may gather from our inspection of the con¬ 
struction of these, the harmony and consistency, 
the wisdom and stability, the power and im¬ 
mensity of the whole; and that we may be con¬ 
vinced that he who condescends noxv to explain 
one or two enigmas, can, and will hereafter, 
in his own time and way, explain all. We see 
why Alexander was permitted to conquer—that 
the gospel of Jesus might be facilitated in its 
progress by the boundaries of empires being 
broken up, and a free intercourse subsisting in 
all parts of the globe : and why Augustus de¬ 
creed an enrolment — that Joseph and Mary 
might be called from their obscurity, and the 
Messiah born, according to the decision of pro¬ 
phecy, at Bethlehem. The tide of human af- 
~ > 

fairs, however agitated and impeded by coun¬ 
ter-currents, swells in it's progress, and amid 
all it’s windings sets irresistibly towards the 
ocean of the divine purposes, in which it is in¬ 
gulfed and lost.—“ Lo, these are parts of his 
“ ways! but how little a portion is heard of 
“ him?” 

If we withdraw our attention from the af¬ 
fairs of empires, and, selecting a family, fix it 
upon an individual, the same perplexity appears 
upon the surface of his trials; and the same 



581 


measure s of illumination is cast upon the dark¬ 
ness of his path, when God condescends to un¬ 
ravel a portion of his own designs. We will 
appeal to the experience of that patriarch, whose 
singular providential trials have rendered him 
so often an object of selection to illustrate this 
assertion. Who, that saw the situation of Ja¬ 
cob, reduced to despair by the mysterious dis¬ 
appearance of his darling son, the detention of 
Simeon, and the demand for Benjamin to go 
into a strange country, a country in which his 
brother was imprisoned, would not have said, 
as he did, “ All these things are against me ?” 
We read these hallowed pages, and perceive 
that the loss of his first child was to preserve 
his own life, and that of all his family; and 
that the imprisonment of a second, and the de¬ 
mand for the third, were the means of the 
developement of the whole, and restored him 
to the arms of his long-lamented Joseph !—“ Lo, 
“ these are parts of his ways!” How small is 
the proportion of providential mystery which is 
explained! How large that which is yet left 
involved in darkness, and perplexed in endless 

intricacy ! How often he passes by us and we 

-« 

perceive him not: he works on our right and 
on our left hand, and we cannot trace him : we 
hear the sound of his footsteps, unable to be¬ 
hold him ! “ He holdeth back the face of his 

r p 3 


582 


“ throne, and spreadeth his cloud upon it. 5 * On 
the testimony of the scriptures a Christian will 
believe that “ all things work together for good 
“ to them that love God, to them that are the 
“ called according to his purpose:” but how 
they co-operate is known only to Him who 
“ sees the end from the beginning,” and whose 
wonder-working hand educes good out of evil. 
JVe know but little ; and that little, how imper¬ 
fectly 1 “ Lo, these are parts of his ways! 

“ but how little a portion is heard of him?” 
Again we apply these words, 


III. TO THE INVISIBLE WORLDS. 

“ Hell is naked before him, and destruction 
u hath no covering.” 

^ i 

We all look forward with anxiety and sus¬ 
pense to that unknown state to which we 
hasten. When we miss from the circle of our 
friendships, the companions of our way, we 
cast many a wishful glance across the abyss at 
our own feet, and make many a fruitless at¬ 
tempt to penetrate the obscurity that hides it’s 
secrets from our enquiring eyes. There was a 
time when the conscious heart of man vibrated 
with the palpitations of fearful anticipation and 
suspense, as he descended “ the valley of the 


583 


/ 

u shadow of deathfor Revelation was not 
there to guide and to support his trembling and 
uncertain steps. Ah, then how bitter was the 
parting sigh! Then the strained eye-balls were 
turned towards the mouth of the vale where 
the last glimmerings of light lingered; and as 
the invisible hand irresistibly urged the reluctant 
wretch forwards, horror and dismay suspended 
all his faculties; chill despair crept through all 
his vitals, and brooded heavy at his heart; and 
a darkness which might be felt, oppressed and 
overwhelmed the departing spirit. Blessed be 
the hand that has rolled the cloud from the 
mouth of the grave, and for ever chased these 
accumulated horrors! “ Blessed be the God and 
“ Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who accord- 
“ ing to his abundant mercy hath begotten us 
“ again to a lively hope, by the resurrection of 
“ Jesus from the dead, to an inheritance in- 
“ corruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth 
“ not away!” Now as we approach that awful 
hour in which the strongest powers of nature 
fail, the visions of God burst upon the enrap¬ 
tured sight: the melody of heaven floats along 
the air, and thrills through the soul of the dying 
believer : angels wait to “ minister to the heirs 
“ of salvation;” Jesus, the friend of sinners, 
is present to close the dim and fixed eyes: an 

pp 4 


584 


energy more than mortal is vouchsafed; and 
death is swallowed up in victory! 

It is no longer a matter of enquiry and of 
uncertainty, of conjecture and of hope, that 
the soul is immortal: the die is cast, and the 
fact is indisputably proved. “ Life and immor- 
“ tality are brought to light by the gospel." A 
thousand dying testimonies have proved the 
stability of revealed truth. He who emerged 
from the dark dominions of death, as the fore¬ 
runner of his people, spoiled him of his scep¬ 
tre, and Lore away the keys of his prison in 
triumph to heaven. The throne of the king of 
terrors already trembles, and nods to its fall. 
“ The hour is coming when all that are in their 1 
“ graves shall hear the voice of the Son of God, 
“ and shall come forth.” His empire shall be 
depopulated, his captives set free, his very being 
annihilated. Rejoice, O ye heavens, for the 
King of Kings has vanquished the Power which 
clouded your beauties, and which will extinguish 
the radiance of your orbs! Rejoice, for the Sa¬ 
viour shall reign till all enemies are subdued 
under his feet; and “ the last enemy that shall 
“ be destroyed, is death f Rejoice, for he will 
create you anew, and rekindle all your faded 
glories, with a lustre which shall never be im¬ 
paired ! Shout for joy, ye redeemed, for the 

i 

day of the restitution of all things draweth 


585 


nigh!—Hear it, ye nations, and let the voice 
of triumph thunder through all your islands and 
all your continents ! Hear it, ye angels, and 
strike your harps in sympathy with the sons 
of mortality, the fellow-heirs with you of the 
same kingdom; and aid their feeble voices, by 
adding the melody of your songs to their tri¬ 
umph over death ! Hear it, ye spirits of just 
men made perfect, and blend your joys with 
the gratitude of your brethren according to the 
flesh! Sound the trumpet of victory through 
the dreary chambers of the grave—the long- 
silent habitations of the dead; and while the 
unconscious dust lies sleeping in these low and 
mournful vaults, hail, in your invisible world, 
ye glorified saints, the dawn of that approach¬ 
ing morning, when your ashes shall he ran¬ 
somed from the tomb, and time and death shall 
expire together! 

It is also decided that a twofold portion 
awaits the departed spirit, a world of end¬ 
less joy, or of endless woe. A prison where 
the heart hardens as it suffers; and the vials of 
divine wrath cannot be exhausted: or a world 
of bliss, the habitation of God, of angels, of 
departed saints, of holiness, of perfection, of 
inextinguishable happiness. In the scriptures, 
the imagination and the reason, are employed 
in contemplating regions of horror, in which 


586 

the worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched; 
but the man who rejected divine compassion is 
delivered over to remorse, and anguish, and dark¬ 
ness, and despair, and unknown misery: or, these 
powers of the mind are overwhelmed in the 
vision of the palace of God, and the unshaken 
kingdom which he has prepared for the right¬ 
eous ; and as the armies of the redeemed pass 
before us, the voice from heaven proclaims— 
“ They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any 
“ more, neither shall the sun light on them, 
“ nor any heat. For the lamb which is in the 
“ midst of the throne, shall feed them, and 
“ shall lead them to living fountains of waters : 
“ and God shall wipe away all tears from their 
“ eyes.” 

When you have explored these invisible worlds 
by the aid of revelation, much obscurity still 
hovers over them. Their existence is clearly 
ascertained, but few particulars respecting these 
unknown lands, have reached these remote re¬ 
gions. We have yet every thing to learn re¬ 
specting their nature, the nature of their inha¬ 
bitants, and the nature of the employments at¬ 
tached to them. “ Lo, these are parts of his 
“ ways! but how little a portion is heard of 
“ him ?” And if all the operations of nature, 
the mysteries of Providence, and the secrets of 
the invisible worlds, were developed, still these 


587 

all are but “parts of his ways!” We apply this 
language once more, 


IV. TO THE WORD OF REVELATION. 

Even in this volume “ how little a portion 
“ is heard of him !” 

Here, those truths which are of most import¬ 
ance to us as dying men, are plainly revealed. 
M e feel forcibly our relation to God, “ the Judge 
“ of all.” We behold human nature emerging 
from the ruins of the fall, and triumphing over 
the curse. We perceive the devastation intro¬ 
duced by the transgression of our first parent, 
repaired by the obedience and death of the 
Second Adam, who “ is the Lord from heaven.” 
We see Jesus “ made a little lower than the 
“ angels” for our sakes, afterwards “ crowned 
“ with glory and honour,” as oilr surety and re¬ 
presentative. He suffered “ the just for the 
“ unjust to bring us to God.” He was u lifted 
“ up that he might draw all men unto him.’* 
And “ through him we all have access by one 
“ Spirit to the Father.” 

The Holy Spirit is represented as descending 
to apply all the blessings arising from his death 
to the wounded conscience. The image of God 
rs restored to the heart. The bosom becomes 


588 


an habitation of the Most High. It is no longer 
a scene of anarchy, the seat of tumultuous 
passions; but the residence of peace, and joy, 
and hope, and holiness, as the pledge of still 
more refined and exalted felicity to come. 

Connected with these solemn truths are pro¬ 
mises suited to every possible circumstance in 
human life, and adapted to all the difficulties 
which press upon the man in passing through 
this valley of tears. In this one book is found 
“ whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things 
“ are honest, whatsoever things are just, what- 
“ soever things are pure, whatsoever things are 
“ lovely, whatsoever things are of good report 
in a word, whatsoever things are “ profitable 
“ for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, and 
“ for instruction in righteousness.” But when 
you have laid together all the discoveries of this 
volume, you must confess — “ Lo, these are 
“ parts of his ways! but how little a portion is 
“ heard of him ?” 

It is freely conceded to infidelity, that there 
are in this volume “ many things hard to be 
“ understooddifficulties which cannot be 
surmounted, and mysteries which cannot be 
explained. But who does not perceive, from 
the train of discussion pursued this evening, 
that in this very point consists it's analogy to 
nature and to Providence? that it bears the cha- 


589 

racter of the unsearchable God iinpressed upon 
it? that it forms a part, and only a, part, of the 
same mysterious plan, and the same great opera¬ 
tions, which are carrying forwards above us, 
around us, beneath us, wherever the hand of 
God is—and that is every where? Who does not 
trace in the Bible the same features of clearness 
and of obscurity—the same combination of 

\ V 

light and of darkness—found in every thing 
else connected with the Deity ; and to be ex¬ 
pected in the communications made by an infi¬ 
nite mind, to a finite capacity? Who does not 
see that the same obscurity which overshadows 
revelation, equally overspreads nature and Pro¬ 
vidence? Who can deny, on these principles, 
the position which we wish to establish : that 
no conclusion can be drawn against the Bible 
on amount of it s mysteries; but rather, that 
theyTurnish an evidence that it is indeed a re¬ 
velation from him, who is equally past finding 
out in all his ways? 

All these things are but the image of the in¬ 
visible God: when you have passed through 
them all, you are only on the threshold of the 
temple of his works. He that wearies his eye 
in tracing the systems that are visible in the 
starry heavens, and his imagination in conceiv¬ 
ing of myriads beyond these, leaves half the 
works of God unexplored, and an infinity of sys- 





590 

terns uneonceived. He that searches into the 
mystery of Providence, and by the aid of reve¬ 
lation unravels a portion of his operations, has 
only seen, like Moses, a part of his glory, but 
“ the cloud” is yet spread over “ the face of his 
“ throne.” He that explores the invisible 
worlds by the light of revelation, only sweeps 
over their surface, but must die to learn their 
secrets. He that reads in this volume the na¬ 
ture of God, his relation to us, the way of re¬ 
conciliation, and the plan of redemption, has 
learned only in part what God has done, and 
what he has laid up for them that fear him. 
The tale will be unfolding through all the re¬ 
volving periods of eternity. Some mysteries 
will be incessantly explaining, some new dis¬ 
coveries of divine grace continually making— 
and we shall ever be learning what are “ the 
“ heights and depths, the breadths and lengths, 
“ of the love of Christ, which passeth know- 
“ ledge.” For the present we leave the subject 
exhausted precisely at the point where we be¬ 
gan : “ Lo, these are parts of his ways! and 
“ how little a portion is heard of him ?” 

“ BUT THE THUNDER OF HIS POWER WHO CAN 

“ UNDERSTAND?” 

If the radiance of these material orbs is so 
insupportable, and the light of the noontide 


591 

sun blinds the organ of visions: if the mysteries 
of Providence are so inscrutable, and his super¬ 
intendence of human affairs so irresistible: if 
the invisible worlds are so sublimely obscure, 
and he reigns unresisted over them : if the beams 
of his mercy shining through the revelation of 
divine love are so overwhelming; Oh 1 what 
must be the unquenchable fire of his indigna¬ 
tion ! “ The thunder of his power who can un- 
“ derstand ?” 

If when he descended in the cool of the day 
to judge our first parents, they shrunk with 
horror from the face of offended Deity: if when 
he gave his law, the mountain burned with fire, 
and darkness and thunder, and the sound of a 
trumpet, announced the present God, and shook 
the camp of Israel: if when he discovered only 
the skirts of his glory to Moses, he sheltered 
him in a rock, and covered him with his hand; 
if when he passed before Elijah, a great and 
strong wind rent the mountains, an earthquake 
rived the rocks, and a fire consumed the forest; 
if when in the veil of flesh his face eclipsed the 
splendour of the sun, and his raiment shone as 
the light; if when he appeared to his beloved 
disciple in the barren isle of Patmos, in the 
softest beams of his majesty, so terrible was the 
sight, that he fell at his feet as dead: Oh! 
what must be the power of his anger! and 



592 

- 

“ the thunder of his power who can under- 
“ stand ? ,? 

We have heard his thunderstorm in the sum¬ 
mer : when clouds have been opposed to clouds, 
and mingled their sulphur in one loud, impetu¬ 
ous explosion; while the mountains and the 
vallies have returned their roarings in broken 
echoes. But what is the thunderstorm of sum¬ 
mer, to the ten thousand thunders which shall 
rend the earth, when the trump of God shall 
awaken the dead; and add to these twice ten 
thousand more, and they are as the rattling* of 
a leaf to “ the thunder of his power!” 

Who then can stand against him? Pause and 
think, ye monarchs of this world, who resist 
his power! Who would have him for an enemy? 
Pause and think, ye who madly violate his laws! 
Who may abide the day of his coming? For he 
shall sit as a refiner to try every work, and every 
spirit what it is! 

Hide your diminished heads, ye that would 
bring down the Infinite Mind to your finite ca¬ 
pacities ! Boast no more your conclusions drawn 
from the limited views which you have of his 
operations. Use your reason no longer as a 
weapon against him who bestowed it; lest a 
dart, launched by an unseen hand, strike through 
your heart; and the arrows of the Almighty be 


593 

♦ 

lodged in your bosom, the poison whereof shall 
drink up your spirit! “ Kiss the son, lest he be 
“ angry, and ye perish from the way; when 
“ his wrath is kindled but a little !’’- 

“ BUT THE THUNDER OF HIS POWER WHO CAN 
“ UNDERSTAND?” 



NOTES. 




We have described the sun, in page 574, of the preceding Lecture, 
as a body of fire. Such it has long been considered : but modem 
astronomy has shaken this opinion of antiquity. The ingenious Dr. 
Herschel supposes “ that it is an opaque body, surrounded by an 
u atmosphere of a phosphoric nature, composed of various trans- 
<f . parent and elastic fluids, by the decomposition of which light is 
“ produced, and lucid appearances formed of different degrees and 
iC intensity.” And he concludes that it is even probably an inhabited 
world. We venture not to hazard an opinion upon this novel hypo¬ 
thesis : the name of Dr. Herschel ranks high in the department of 
literature which he has chosen. But may I be permitted to recom¬ 
mend to the attention of young persons, studying the principles of 
astronomy, “ Gregory’s Lessons Astronomical and Philosophical”— 
from which the above statement is extracted ? They are familiar and 
instructive, amusing and scientific, at one and the same time. 


THE END. 


J, G. ’Barnard, Printer , Snow-HilL 





ERRATJ. 


Page, ^ine, 

5, 14—for awarded read rewarded. 
19, 25—for Carthagenians read Car¬ 
thaginians. 

27, 25—for tlioir read their. 

57, 31—for tSvcrou read tSvauv. 

38, 3—for iir it t§tv7roi 1*. IttiteSevto, 

38, 11—for rogare read rogari. 

87, 18—for read loeocv. 

87, 22—for <puceu<; read (pvutuq. 
91, 21—for contrarice read contraria. 
103, 4—for Epporus read Ephorus. 

Ill, 25—for read bfaupva. 

113, 20—for Telota read Gelota : and 
for T source read T/Awra. 
138, 5 — for substernans r. substernens . 


Page. T.ine. 

145, 21—for faimily read family. 

1 84, 3 — for mortis read montis. 

185, 12—for Semi rami da r. Semiramide.^ 
185, 15—for Sidonis read Sidonio. 

210, 6—for divided read divine. 

216, 24—after Scripture dele and. 

220, 19—dele the second zohich. 

234, 24—for Ibi read Ibit. 

341, 19—for Tetsament read Testament. 
348, 10—for spirsts read spirits , 

353, 28—for r a read tS. 

390, 24—for /xetcc read ptv. 

471, 4—fore reads. 

471, 17—for iccvTog read lotvrocq. 

519, 26—for yitToc, read piv. 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 


1. The Rock of Israel : A Charity Sermon. 

2. Presumption overthrown by the God of Battles : 
a Sermon addressed to the Peckham Volunteers. 

3. The Voice of Years: preached and published for the 
Benefit of the Friendly Female Society. 

4. Tears wiped away : A Funeral Sermon, occasioned by 
the Death of the late Rev. Martin Ready. 

5. Submission : A Funeral Sermon, occasioned by the 
Death of the late Mrs. Hubbard. 

6. The Mysteries of Providence : A Funeral Sermon, 
occasioned by the Death of the late Mrs. Brooksbank. 

7. The Sword of the Lord and of Britain : A 
Thanksgiving Sermon, occasioned by the Victory obtained at 
Trafalgar, over the combined Fleets of France and Spain. 

8. Fugitive Pieces ; intended principally for the use of 
Schools, 2 volumes. 

Sold by Hatchard, Piccadilly ; Conder, Bucklersbury ; 
Williams and Smith, Stationers’-court; Moore, Peckham; 
Burton, Houndsditch; Cole, Greenwich ; & other Bookseller*. 



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